


Heaven Sent

by Esselle



Series: Heaven Sent [1]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alternate Universe - Ancient Greece & Rome, Class Differences, Emotional Sex, Hedonism, M/M, Porn With Plot, Wealth, [[NO non/dub-con]]
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-06
Updated: 2017-07-30
Packaged: 2018-11-28 08:44:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 39,316
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11414322
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Esselle/pseuds/Esselle
Summary: 'The first thing Shouyou noticed was that he had been wrong, about Kageyama’s eyes. They weren’t cold. They were instead like the kindling for a flame, intense and boring straight into Shouyou, lighting him from the inside out.The second thing he noticed was that Kageyama was staring back at him with the same expression Shouyou was sure was on his own face.Pure, unfiltered desire.'--When lowly acolyte Hinata is tasked with bringing his temple's monthly tax payment to the Centurion's Villa, he hardly expects to have an encounter with Kageyama, the lavishly wealthy landowner and decorated army general himself. But Kageyama turns out to be far more interested in Hinata than the money, believing him to be a gift sent from the gods themselves. Before Hinata realizes what's happening, he finds himself agreeing to stay at the villa, where Kageyama can spoil him to his heart's content.To Hinata's surprise, he soon finds himself growing attached to the brutally blunt yet strangely sweet Kageyama; but he is worried he won't be able to hold the attention of a man who has everything, even as Kageyama starts to become everything to him.[words by Esselle, art by reallycorking.]





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hi everyone! This story is a collaborative project between myself and [reallycorking](http://reallycorking.tumblr.com/)! While I've written the words, and she's drawn the art, we came up with the concept and plot together from start to finish. 
> 
> **Please note:** There are some NSFW images embedded in this story! 
> 
> Thanks for reading, and we hope you enjoy!

Even from a distance, the villa looked enormous. Shouyou could see it perched on the hill from the time he set out from the temple, gleaming white under the sun during the day, and lit up by fires shining within its walls when he stopped at an inn for the night.

He had always seen it, of course, from the time he'd been small, allowed to play outside the temple in the dirt with the other children. The Centurion's Villa, the owner of the land they lived on. For that privilege, they were taxed, though not an unfair amount. Every month, the temple sent an acolyte to deliver the payment to the villa, as a sign of respect to the one who lived there.

For years, one of the priests had been the one to make the trip, but he had twisted his ankle two nights previous. In his stead, the elders had selected Shouyou to go, because he was young and had enough energy for the trek.

They were concerned about his manners and how he would present himself to the villa on the hill, but after much lecturing, he was sent off, to fulfill their obligation and return. It had taken him nearly two days to reach the villa, but on the eve of the second, he'd finally arrived, as the sky grew dusky and purple.

Now the estate loomed before him. If it had looked enormous from far away, then close up, its size was bewildering. Standing directly in front of it, Shouyou found he couldn't see to the ends of the home. Moreover, the entire place was bustling, fraught with activity, though the atmosphere was relaxed, filled with the chatter of what appeared to be guests—by the manner of their dress and the way they mingled, revelrous and talkative.

No one welcomed him, or paid him any mind at all, and so he continued forward into the atrium, looking around him at the marvels of the place.

There was marble, inlaid with gold, fountains and statues, entire walls made of intricate glass murals. Compared to the temple, with its humble size and decor, the sights before Shouyou now were like something out of a dream. It was one thing to know about the vast wealth of the patronage, in the abstract. It was entirely different to see it in person.

The atrium was similarly busy, but here further in Shouyou thought he spied servants at the edges of the room, observing, but not interacting. And sure enough, one of them noticed him, as much as he stood out from the crowd.

She approached him and he nervously thrust the sack of coins he had brought with him out in front of himself, as proof that he had business there.

"This is for you!" he yelped, and then realized his mistake. "I mean—not for _you,_ but for the villa. I'm from the temple, this is to pay our—"

"Come," she said, as though he hadn't spoken at all. "I will take you to the master."

"Take me… to…" Shouyou repeated. "Wait, I need to give this to him myself? Can't I just give it to you?"

But she didn't respond. Instead, she walked away from him, and after a moment of standing there in confusion, he was forced to squeeze his way through the busy crowd after her, lest she disappear from view.

He caught up to her in the thick of the crowd, which only seemed to be getting thicker. Here, the commotion and chatter gave way to something more raucous, a true party, where the guests all had unfocused gazes, rambunctious laughter and drinks in hand every which way Shouyou looked. The corridor cut through a beautiful garden, abundant with vines and other greenery, and places for the partygoers to lounge and talk.

But upon closer inspection, Shouyou saw that many of the people there were not doing much talking, or lounging. Engaged with each other they may be, but it was a far more physical type of interaction here, in the secluded garden.

Shouyou gasped, and averted his eyes, though not quickly enough to block out the image, now that he had seen. He knew that this kind of thing wasn't unusual for many citizens, especially amongst the hedonistic wealthy population. But his temple upbringing was light on most worldly pleasures, in particular, those of the flesh.

There was a room off to the side of the gardens, which Shouyou saw as they neared was more of a hall, grand and lit with huge wall mounted torches that gave the room an unearthly appearance, the shadows of many human bodies moving like sinuous, copulating snakes in the low, flickering glare. Somewhere, a drum beat, rhythmic and slow, hypnotizing. Otherwise, the room was too silent. Other than the hiss of skin moving against skin, the snakes did not interrupt their dance with sound.

The concentration of bodies got thicker and their forms more convoluted the further into the room Shouyou traveled with the servant. They all seem to be drawn, pulled, towards a raised dais at the far end of the room. Some seemed almost to be crawling up the steps, hands reaching, grasping for the one seated at the top on a cushioned lounge.

Here at last was the centurion—Kageyama Tobio, the master of the house.

He was sprawled easily, artfully, apart from the debauchery surrounding him, even while he was so clearly in its midst, the cause for it all. He held a goblet of something precariously in his hand, fingertips grasping only loosely, as though the drink was an afterthought. In the dim light, Shouyou could barely see his face, but the long column of his throat was exposed, his head tipped back on his shoulders. His garb, a beautiful (and doubtless, expensive) purple toga, embroidered with spun gold, was draped low to his waist, exposing his torso. His bare chest and stomach gleamed bronze and broad in the firelight. Behind him stood two more servants, one with a platter of fruits, the other with cheeses, and they took turns feeding him, pressing the perfectly selected foods to his lips.

A man knelt at the side of the lounge, his head between the centurion's legs, but whether this was a servant or a guest, Shouyou couldn't say. The man was entirely naked, and the folds of the master's tunic had been parted open, to allow the man by his side the honor of serving him to the utmost. But though he worked hard, head bobbing up and back down, Kageyama didn't touch him.

The servant Shouyou was following moved forward, unfaltering, as though the steps before her were clear. When she reached the top, she knelt before the centurion respectfully.

 _"Dominus,_ " she said, and the centurion rolled his head lazily to look at her. Shouyou caught a glimpse of his face; impassive, with cold, hooded eyes. "You have a visitor."

Those cold eyes shifted almost imperceptibly, to glance past her and settle upon Shouyou, and as Kageyama sat up straight, Shouyou froze.

Shouyou dropped his eyes immediately. Hammered into his head were the priests' words: _don't meet the master's eyes. Avert your gaze. Show respect._

"What is this small thing?" came the voice, deep and bored. Low, but easy to hear, in the eerily quiet room. "Why does it just stand there?"

Even with his nerves on edge, Shouyou bristled, but grit his teeth against a retort. He was forever in trouble at the temple for his inability to think before he spoke, and he was even more likely to say something stupid when he was shaking in his sandals. And so the priests had told him to simply stay silent.

"He has come to pay what you are owed," the servant informed Kageyama.

"Come, then," Kageyama commanded, and Shouyou swallowed nervously, and approached him. He did not have the grace of the servant, and it was a painstaking process, picking his way up to the dais without stepping on anyone. He kept his eyes cast downward, which meant he had nowhere to look but at the rapturous expressions on the faces of those under his feet, though it made his whole body heat up and his face tingle from the sudden burn.

When he finally stood in front of Kageyama, Shouyou realized, to his embarrassment, that averting his eyes meant he was staring directly at Kageyama's lap—or rather, at the back of the head of the man who was pleasuring the centurion. But Kageyama reached down, finally putting a hand in the man's hair, tugging on it, and Shouyou turned his head quickly to the side, so he only heard the soft, wet noise it made when the man pulled off of Kageyama.

Still without looking, Shouyou thrust his bag of coin out in front of him once more, toward its proper recipient. The heavy bundle was lifted out of his hand, and then he heard a loud clinking, a shower of coins on marble. On instinct, his eyes darted forward, and he saw the bag had been dropped carelessly upon the floor, coins spilling out of the opening down the steps of the dais.

He stared in shock at the display—so much silver discarded like sand. It was a moment before he realized Kageyama had shifted his robe to cover himself, making it somewhat easier for Shouyou to find somewhere to look. Then Kageyama spoke again.

"Where do you hail from?"

Shouyou jumped, at being addressed directly. "The temple!" he squeaked. "I've come to pay our tax."

"Isn't it… usually someone else?" Kageyama asked him.

"Y-yes," Shouyou said. "But he was unable to come today. So, it's me, instead."

"I seem to disgust you," was the next statement Kageyama issued.

For a moment, Shouyou didn't process it. Then he shook his head violently, eyes widening as he stared at Kageyama's feet.

"No!" he said. "No, no, not at all."

"Then why won't you look at me?"

"They," Shouyou started to say, breathless. He wondered what response would be best, before settling upon the truth. "They told me not to!"

"Who did?" Kageyama demanded. "Who told you this?"

Shouyou couldn't help but feel as though he'd said or done something very, very wrong. But where could he look? He darted his eyes up, down, and up again. He didn't dare let his stare linger on the man's lap, but this hardly seemed any less forbidden, as his gaze caught on the edges of Kageyama's hipbones where they sloped under his tunic, the hard muscles of his stomach.

"The—the priests," Shouyou said, belatedly.

Kageyama snorted, softly, and then said, "Look at me."

Shouyou's breath lodged in his throat. After a moment, he shook his head fearfully. What if this was a test? Would Kageyama tell the temple if Shouyou brought shame upon it? Or would he even bother with that at all—what if he simply chose to feed Shouyou to a pet lion or bear instead, or throw him in jail, or make him a slave—

"Didn't you hear me?" Kageyama asked impatiently, interrupting his panicked thoughts. "Let me see your face."

And then he reached out, grabbing Shouyou by the chin with a strong hand, forcing him to tilt his head upwards.

And Shouyou met his eyes.

The first thing he noticed was that he had been wrong, about Kageyama's eyes. They were dark, yes, a shade of blue so deep it was almost black. But they weren't cold.

They were instead like the kindling for a flame, intense and boring straight into Shouyou, lighting him from the inside out.

The second thing he noticed (or perhaps the third, after the strong brows and full lips and straight, statuesque nose) was that Kageyama was staring back at him with the same expression Shouyou was sure was on his own face.

Pure, unfiltered desire.

When Kageyama spoke next, his voice was throaty and rough. "Do you understand that while you are in my home, you are to obey me?"

Shouyou nodded, chin still trapped in Kageyama's fingers. "Yes."

"Me alone," Kageyama insisted, tightening his grip.

It would be so easy to obey this man anywhere, everywhere. He was a prominent centurion in the imperial army, had risen quickly through the ranks, was feared and respected. His talent for making war was unparalleled. Shouyou had no place speaking to him, looking at him. Wanting him.

"Yes, _dominus,_ " he breathed, and Kageyama's eyes darkened still.

Kageyama eased his grip on Shouyou's chin, fingertips caressing Shouyou's throat, and Shouyou swallowed hard against them as nerves erupted in the pit of his stomach.

"You come from the temple," he said, and Shouyou nodded. "So along with their payment, I have been given an additional offering…"

"You… have?" Shouyou asked in confusion. "I didn't bring… what else is there?"

"A gift from the gods," Kageyama told him, and shrugged. "You."

Shouyou's mouth fell open. Then he waved his hands in front of himself, shaking his head frantically. "F-from the gods?! No, I only brought the money, I'm just a temple boy—"

"A virgin," Kageyama said bluntly.

Shouyou clapped his hands to his mouth, before squeaking, "Well—I am, yes! But—"

"They must mean to reward me for my successful campaign…" Kageyama murmured, ignoring Shouyou as he rubbed at his chin thoughtfully.

Kageyama had, Shouyou knew, just recently returned from a long and bloody war, during which the empire had seized victory, largely due to Kageyama's part in the battle. Shouyou had seen the celebration party return in horse drawn chariots, a parade through the streets, flower petals strewn on the ground beneath them. But…

"I'm not—" Shouyou tried again, faltering when Kageyama turned his eyes back on him. "Sorry, to disappoint you. But I'm not a gift. I'm just their acolyte, and I've delivered my package, and now I've got to leave." He really _must_ leave, before he did something incredibly stupid.

"Leave?" Kageyama repeated blankly. "Why would you want to leave in the middle of the celebration?"

"Believe me," Shouyou told him, "I wouldn't be… I can't be much fun at a party like this. I don't even know what to… look, I'll just go—"

"Then you'll at least take a room here, before going back out on the road again," Kageyama said decisively, and Shouyou blinked. "It's a long journey, isn't it? Regain your strength."

"My strength is… fine," Shouyou said, a frown pulling at his mouth. But he wasn't exactly looking forward to the prospect of turning right around and walking all the way back to the temple.

"Food, drink, and a good night's rest," Kageyama continued on, waving at the servant who had led Shouyou in.

"All of those things do sound nice," Shouyou admitted, resolve wavering.

"Then stay," Kageyama said.

And though it wasn't entirely clear whether or not he was commanding it, Shouyou said, "Yes, _dominus."_

"Give him whatever he wants," Kageyama said, and Shouyou followed the woman back out of the room, glancing back only once, right before he went back out into the garden.

Sitting motionless as a marble statue on its throne, amidst the writhing orgy surrounding the dais, Kageyama was still watching him.

*

Shouyou spent that night in the softest bed he'd ever slept in, or could even imagine sleeping in. He had stayed hidden inside the room from the time the servant left, though she was far from the only person who came to check on him.

No sooner had he even thought he might be hungry than food appeared, trays upon trays of everything he could possibly want, all the most exquisite types of delicacies, the likes of which he'd never tasted or heard of before. Once his belly was full, he was offered massages, for his feet and back and every other part of his body, including some that made him blush when they were mentioned. But he was too shy to accept these, and apologetically turned down the multiple offers for comfort. And then, finally, too exhausted to even think of washing his dusty feet, he collapsed into the bed of clouds and fell fast asleep.

So he woke in the morning in desperate need of a bath. It was nearly afternoon when he sat up in bed, feeling grimy and itchy and far too dirty for the pristine sheets he'd sunk into the night before.

There was again a servant sent to assist him, and this one showed him to the enormous baths, which were mercifully empty. Shouyou spent a good, long while submerged up to his neck in the hot water, feeling the last remnants of fatigue in his limbs slip away. Now, he was ready to make the walk back to the temple. He'd already spent too much time wallowing, and nice as it was, these luxuries were out of his realm. He'd done nothing special to deserve such lavish treatment, and felt a bit guilty about indulging without a thought to the priests or temple teachings of humble piety.

He climbed from the baths, dripping over the tiled mosaic floor, and went to retrieve his clothes. But they were missing.

In their place, he found two servants waiting for him, one holding a towel and the other a toga, pure white.

"Ex… cuse me…" Shouyou said, approaching them nervously. "I think I left my—oh, th-thank you, you don't have to—" He wobbled, raising his arms uncertainly as the first servant began to dry his body with the towel. It was warmed just slightly, and unimaginably soft, and he couldn't help but relax as the man patted him down gently, trying to stifle a giggle where the fibers tickled his stomach and legs. The man bowed to him when he was finished, and Shouyou bowed back. "Thank you," he said. "Sorry to bother you more, but have you seen my… clothes…?"

He trailed off, for the second servant was now approaching him, unfolding the toga she held. Shouyou eyed it, unsure of what to do.

"Those aren't mine," he said, apologetically. There was no way his simple tunic could ever have been laundered to such a brilliant, unblemished white. This was expensive wool, lightweight and probably even dyed to achieve such a snowy hue. There was also, he observed, not a lot of fabric involved.

"The master," the woman told him, "sent us to look after you."

"Oh," Shouyou said. "That's really nice, but I don't need—"

"Your clothes from the temple are being washed. The master chose these for you to wear in the meantime," the woman continued, holding out the beautiful, and more importantly, clean toga. "May I dress you?"

Shouyou stared at the toga, and then at her. He could never wear something this rich back to the temple; but if Kageyama had personally sent it, he could hardly refuse, either. The thought occurred to him that he could always swap clothing on his way back, and so he nodded.

"I can put it on," he said, and she allowed him to take the toga from her.

His confidence was quickly dashed. He tried wrapping the toga every which way, but nothing seemed to work, and it quickly fell apart when he took his hands away. It wouldn't tie at his waist, because the ends of the cloth didn't reach. Defeated, he handed it back to her, head hanging.

It took her what seemed like seconds to dress him. She draped the soft fabric around Shouyou so it fell in elegant folds at his hips, looping a gold belt around his waist. While she did this, the other servant procured more golden objects: circlets that he slipped over Shouyou's wrists to slide up his arms, delicate bands decorated with small gold leaves that fit high up on Shouyou's thighs, just below the hem of the toga skirt (which was very short indeed, Shouyou was realizing). Even his sandals were golden, with thin gold straps that looped all the way up to his knees.

The finishing touch was a gold circlet, fashioned after an olive branch. This, the servant placed in his hair, and Shouyou wondered, from the weight, if it might be solid gold. If it was, he was wearing more wealth on top of his head than he'd ever encountered over all the years of his life, combined.

Once they were done, Shouyou looked down at himself, feeling somewhat breathless.

"Are you sure this is all meant for me?" he asked.

It wasn't just the gold. The toga was… small, might be a word he could call it, but it was also very, very revealing. It draped over one shoulder only, with the front swooping dramatically downward, below his navel. Though it belted at the waist, it didn't close at his right side at all, and it slung precariously low in the back, as well. When he twisted to peer behind himself, he felt his cheeks starting to heat at the amount of skin exposed. It was a common thing to be naked, perfectly acceptable among the lower classes to which he himself belonged, but it was another thing entirely to feel so… _teasing._

He wasn't expecting an actual answer, but both servants bowed low to him, and the woman said,

"The master said they were worthy to be bestowed upon his gift."

Shouyou shook his head. "He still thinks—"

"He awaits you now," she told him. "He said to bring you once you were ready. You are to share the midday meal with him."

"But I can't," Shouyou told her, "I have to go back, they're expecting me…"

His stomach growled loudly, interrupting him. He realized he was quite hungry, despite the veritable feasting he'd done the night before. But this was nothing new. He was always hungry, especially at the temple, where fasting was expected regularly, and often, even on the rare occasion that they had enough food to satisfy his large appetite.

"Well," he amended sheepishly, once the gurgling noises from his midsection had subsided enough for him to be heard, "maybe just for lunch. But then I really have to leave!"

True to the servant's word, Kageyama was awaiting him. Lunch was just being spread out on the pavilion when Shouyou arrived—word must have been sent ahead to have it prepared just as he got there. It was a pleasant, outdoor spot, and from the vantage point high on the hill, Shouyou could see the entire city below, all that Kageyama owned. The view was incredible.

"Sit," was all Kageyama said in welcome. He certainly didn't seem the type to ever say please, it seemed.

So Shouyou sat. There were many plush cushions placed on the marble floor of the pavilion, and he picked one facing Kageyama, not too close (but not entirely far, either).

"I…" Shouyou began to say, but paused, wondering if Kageyama would speak more. But Kageyama just watched him, silently.

His face was so striking. In the sunlight, Shouyou could finally see it clearly. The centurion had surprisingly long eyelashes that made his eyes appear even deeper and darker and more alluring than they already were. There was a faint tint of red in his cheeks, a sign of life that escaped his severe exterior, and his lips looked soft and the tiniest bit moist, like he'd just…

And then he did. Kageyama let his eyes run over Shouyou's form before him, and his tongue slipped over his bottom lip, slow and decisive.

Shouyou forced his stare downward, biting his own lip as a warm jolt of answering heat flooded his stomach. This was hunger of a different sort, entirely. He rushed to speak, to cover the long silence.

"Thank you f-for the room last night! The food was delicious. Everyone was very—helpful."

Kageyama didn't respond. Shouyou hiked the sleeve of his toga up his shoulder where it had begun to slide down, and tugged on the hem of the tiny skirt self-consciously. Inwardly, he cringed, thinking how awkward he must look, rather than alluring, as Kageyama somehow—surely mistakenly—thought he was. The centurion, Shouyou reasoned, would see soon enough how common he was, and dismiss him. Nerves climbing, he babbled on.

"And thank you for lending me these clothes, they're really… well, I'm sorry for dirtying them—"

"Dirtying them?" he heard Kageyama murmur.

"Ah, not that I've done anything inappr—strange! And I won't!" Shouyou said in a rush. "I just… know they must have cost a fortune, and for someone like me to wear them—"

"What they are worth is of no consequence to me, and is not your concern," Kageyama said. "I like the way they look on you. That is all you should care about."

Some of Shouyou's nerves faded, to be replaced by curiosity—and a vague sense of exasperation. He squinted at the ground. "So I should only be concerned with what you think?"

"Yes," Kageyama said, without hesitation.

This was not entirely an unexpected response, given that everyone in the household, and all the people in the city Shouyou could see from the hill, lived their lives by the will of this man.

"W-well," Shouyou spluttered, "in that case, I _am_ concerned with the fact that you still seem to think I'm some sort of divine being—"

"Don't be stupid," Kageyama said, cutting him off. "I know you're not divine. It wouldn't be a very good gift if you outranked me."

"I'm not a gift!" Shouyou exclaimed at last. He hoped it seemed less rude to raise his voice at the cushions on the floor than at Kageyama directly. "I'm not a good gift however you look at it! Why would they—why would you even think—I mean, why would you _want_ —"

"Look at me," Kageyama said, and Shouyou shut his mouth and raised his eyes. Kageyama was regarding him with an actual _expression_ on his face, for the first time. He tilted his head, and Shouyou realized, it was confusion. "Tell me your name."

"Oh, it's… Hinata Shouyou." There'd been no opportunity to give it before, Shouyou knew, but also no reason. Kageyama didn't need to know his name. He didn't need to know, or remember, anything about Shouyou.

But Kageyama nodded, and then let the name pass through his lips, breathing it out quietly. The sound of it was… full, coming from him, meaningful. Desirable.

"Shouyou," Kageyama said again, and Shouyou's heart began to race. "Shouyou, eat."

"Do you still…" Shouyou said vaguely. Why wouldn't this man understand what he was trying to tell him? He was just a lowly temple acolyte. Nothing more.

"Ask me what you want to know," Kageyama said calmly, as he signaled the servants forward to serve the food and drink, "and I will answer."

"Why am I here?" Shouyou asked. He realized belatedly it was a useless question. He'd meant to ask why Kageyama hadn't sent him away, why he'd summoned Shouyou to eat with him and prolong his stay, why he was so convinced Shouyou was more than he said he was. With no context, his question had made little sense.

But Kageyama said simply, "Because I want you to be. Now, eat."

Shouyou tugged his sleeve back up again, and reached for a piece of fluffy, warm bread that had been placed right within reach of his fingers.

The lunch was mostly silent, though broken periodically by Kageyama recommending different foods for Shouyou to try. Somehow, nothing from the previous night's meal seemed to have been duplicated in the spread in front of Shouyou—and he could say this with certainty, having sampled everything judiciously. Even the various types of bread were different. Shouyou could hardly imagine the cost of just one of the fine meats on the table, let alone the wide variety and excessive amount of options. It was mind-blowing, that Kageyama had fed an entire villa full of guests the night before, and now had an entirely different meal procured for lunch.

But, cost was not his concern, Kageyama had said. The food tasted incredible, and Shouyou focused on savoring that, instead.

"What will you do after the meal?"

"Huh?" Shouyou asked, surprised at being addressed a question in which his opinion, it seemed, mattered. "Oh, I'll…"

"You can retire to your room to rest," Kageyama told him, and Shouyou almost laughed at how instinctively the other man imposed his own will. Still, a nap before traveling sounded _very_ nice.

"Perhaps I will," Shouyou told him.

Kageyama looked pleased. "Your real room will be ready by now. I will have someone show you to it."

"My real room?" Shouyou asked, blankly.

"Yes," Kageyama said. "The summer room. It's much nicer than last night's, but it took some time to have it prepared."

"I don't need another room," Shouyou said. "The first one was nice enough."

"It's inadequate," Kageyama scoffed. "If you're to be staying here, you'll have a proper room."

Shouyou groaned and put his face in his hands. He was sure this was rude, but he was also fairly certain Kageyama wouldn't even notice, at this point. "I'm _not_ staying here."

Kageyama blinked at him. "But I've had the room prepared."

"I have to—"

"It's a nice room," Kageyama said.

Shouyou looked up at him. The centurion looked confused, again. But moreover, with his furrowed brows and slightly pouting mouth, he also looked oddly sweet. And Shouyou wondered—perhaps it was less an imposition, and more that Kageyama didn't even comprehend his reluctance. After all, who would turn down the opportunity to have their every whim indulged at the Centurion's Villa?

"In that case," Shouyou said, giving in with a sigh, "I'll stay. Only—" he added hurriedly, when Kageyama perked up like a puppy that had been offered a delicacy, "for a week. Then I _have_ to go back."

Kageyama seemed to consider this. Then he nodded, once. "That is acceptable to me."

"Oh, good."

Having finished his meal, Kageyama reclined on the cushions, staring out over the town. "A week is enough time for me," he said, sounding satisfied.

"For you?" Shouyou repeated, with a laugh. He stifled it with his hand when Kageyama looked over at him.

"Yes," Kageyama said. "Even if you are not divine, I still intend to make you feel as though you are."

"Oh!" Shouyou stared at him, then patted his cheeks with his hands as they reddened. Now fully flustered, he added, "I—I'll tell you how I'm f-feeling, then!"

"You won't have to tell me," Kageyama said. "I'll know."

*

Kageyama had not been exaggerating in the slightest when he said the new room waiting for Shouyou was nice. It _was_ nice; but so had the first one been. This new one, Shouyou would have said, was more accurately _magnificent._

Now he could see why Kageyama had called it the summer room, as its true worth would be most apparent during those warmer months—for the room had a roof resting on the ornate marble columns lining its borders, but no walls. Like the pavilion, it was open on all sides, and looked out over the city and the surrounding hills of the countryside.

Shouyou did rest after his filling lunch, falling asleep easily in the enormous bed. He woke with the sun still high in the sky, about to begin its downward descent, and sat up, stretching and yawning.

Somewhat unsurprisingly, at this point, a servant seemed to materialize right as he thought of a question, and as they bowed to Shouyou, he rubbed his eyes and asked, "Where's Ka—where is the villa's master?"

"He is out taking his exercise," the man replied. "Shall I bring you to him?"

"No, no…" Shouyou waved his hands. "I don't want to disturb him!"

"It would not be unwelcome," the servant told him. "He instructed me to deliver you into his care, as soon as you wanted to go."

"Ah…" Shouyou said, rubbing the back of his neck. He wondered what else being in Kageyama's care entailed. "Then, I'm ready. I'll follow you."

The villa had a large exercise area on its grounds, an olympic-sized track and field for sport and spectatorship. Shouyou had heard many stories of the events that took place there, races both on foot and in chariots, wrestling, all manner of competitions that the finest athletes came to participate in.

The field was empty, now, save for one lone figure in the distance. The servant gestured, and bowed, and Shouyou realized that it must be Kageyama.

"Do I just… go to him?" he asked.

"If you desire to," the servant said. "I am sure he would not mind the company. If you wished, you could spectate from the stands. Do you hunger or thirst?"

"No—" Shouyou started to say, and then amended it to, "actually, yes—if it's not too much trouble…?"

"It is no trouble at all," the man replied. "I shall take you to sit, then return with sustenance."

As they approached from across the field, it became apparent that Kageyama was exercising, practicing discus in the nude. This again was not unusual, but it made Shouyou's face grow hot, and only grew more pronounced as he drew nearer.

The centurion looked entirely placid to the outside observer, but the flex of muscles as he positioned himself, the sweat rolling down his neck and arms and back, revealed his athleticism and the weight of the discus, both. His body had been rubbed with oil to help keep his muscles limber and warmed, and the sun shining on him highlighted every definition of his impressive physique, the perfect soldier's body. Standing in the open field with the blue sky as his backdrop, he was like a sculpted statue, carved from flesh but as strong as stone, as smooth and well-cut as marble.

They had nearly reached the stands, when suddenly Kageyama straightened. He took his throwing stance, and then, gracefully, decisively, flowed into the movements—the first spin on his leading foot to gather the needed momentum, the second on his back as he brought the disc to bear, and then, with a shocking speed, launched it from the tips of his fingers, sending the heavy metal disc soaring through the air like a child's toy.

He looked better than any statue, Shouyou thought now, staring unabashedly. No still depiction could have done him justice, because marble couldn't breathe, couldn't sweat, had no blood flush running beneath sun-kissed skin.

Kageyama held one perfectly muscled leg settled behind him, toes pointed for balance; abdomen glistening with sweat, stomach and chest rising and falling with every breath as he angled himself just slightly with one arm still extended in front of him in the throwing position. The discus landed, at least three dozen meters away.

As soon as it touched the ground, Shouyou jumped in place, with an excited shout and much applause. Kageyama turned, and Shouyou realized he'd given his presence away, but the other man didn't look annoyed. He wiped the sweat from his brow and raised a hand in greeting, rather than yell across the field.

"I'm going to watch from over here!" Shouyou called, cupping his hands to his mouth in the hopes that his words would carry. It seemed to work, because Kageyama waved at him, and took the next discus offered to him by his attending servant.

Shouyou sat alone in the stands for a short time, before he, too, was joined by several servants bearing food and drink.

"Is he really good?" Shouyou asked if them, as he absently shoveled a variety of savory cheeses into his mouth. "He seems really good. He threw that really far!"

"The master is still one of the top athletes in the empire," one of the servants told him, and Shouyou could detect a hint of pride in her voice. "While in training before joining the military, he won the pentathlon, twice."

"Also," added another of the servants, "he plays the lyre wonderfully."

 _"Uwaaaah,"_ Shouyou breathed.

The pentathlon was one of the most anticipated sporting tournaments of the year, in which athletes competed in five different events: long jump, javelin, discus, a short sprint, and wrestling. Due to the rigorous nature of each, and the widely varying skillset required for each event, pentathletes were considered to be among the most skilled athletes, and their bodies the most beautiful, said to be capable of enduring any effort.

All the events were thought to be skills useful in battle as well, so it was no wonder Kageyama had gone on to produce such an illustrious military career. For him to have won such a tournament, _twice,_ was an enormous achievement.

Shouyou had only been able to attend one such event in his life, and hadn't seen Kageyama compete. But he was greatly interested in sports, even if it wasn't a pastime entirely encouraged by the temple.

It seemed he had slept through most of Kageyama's exercise, because after just a short time more, the centurion called his attendants to him, to wipe his body of sweat and dress him in a simple, short skirted toga. Shouyou sat up straight as Kageyama began to walk to the stands, chewing rapidly so he could swallow the grapes he'd just popped in his mouth.

"Hello!" Shouyou said breathlessly, once Kageyama had come close enough to hear him.

Kageyama nodded at him. "Did you have adequate rest?"

"I did," Shouyou said, "and the room is very nice!" Kageyama looked pleased. Bolstered, Shouyou added, "It was nice, to be able to watch, too—to see you, practicing. You're amazing!"

Kageyama's expression changed to one of surprise. "You have knowledge of these things?"

"Well, not… _specific_ knowledge," Shouyou said. "But it's obvious!"

"I see," Kageyama said. "I wouldn't have thought you'd have an eye for it."

Shouyou gathered himself up proudly. "I might not be an athlete but—I'm good at some things! I'm fast!"

Kageyama tilted his head. "On what track have you tested your skills?"

Shouyou crossed his arms. "I don't need to run on some track to tell I'm fast!"

"But then how can you be sure?" Kageyama argued.

"I just am!" Shouyou said. He puffed out his cheeks, turning his head away. How was he supposed to have ever "tested his skills" on a big official track? Even if he wouldn't have been kicked out for trying, this was his first time journeying so far from the temple.

A hand on his cheek made him startle, but the touch wasn't forceful. Kageyama simply turned Shouyou's attention back to him with his fingers against the side of Shouyou's face. Shouyou swallowed nervously as Kageyama studied him with a frown, staring into his eyes.

"Race me," Kageyama finally said.

Shouyou blinked at him. "What?"

"If you want to find out," Kageyama explained, "then race me. You won't win, obviously, but you'll at least be able to get a feel for it."

Shouyou's mouth fell open. _"Obviously,_ I won't win? Maybe I will!" Kageyama stared at him like this was a distinct impossibility, and Shouyou jumped to his feet. "Alright, let's race. Right now!"

"You'll need proper shoes—" Kageyama started to say, but Shouyou waved him off.

"I don't need a fancy track or special shoes to run," he said, hopping down to the dirt track. "It'll be fine."

"You're going to trip and fall," Kageyama told him. "At least go barefoot—"

"These'll take too long to unlace," Shouyou said. "Really, was this many straps necessary? Don't answer that, doesn't matter—let's go, _dominus._ "

Kageyama watched for a moment longer as Shouyou did some vigorous stretches, arms over the head and behind the back, then reaching down to touch his toes. He straightened quickly from that position as the hem of his toga pulled precariously high on his thighs. Finally, Kageyama shook his head and came to line up next to Shouyou.

"Name your marker," Kageyama told him.

Shouyou scanned farther down the track and pointed. "The tree, on the side, there. First one to reach it wins."

Kageyama agreed, and one of his servants came to count them down. Shouyou bounced on the balls of his feet, eyes dead set on the marker.

At the signal of the whistle, he was off. He didn't dare look in Kageyama's direction, knowing that even the smallest hesitation would spell defeat for him. Instead, he focused on the tree, and on running—the only thing he took notice of was the wind whipping back his hair and rushing in his ears, his arms pumping hard, and the thumping of his footfalls as he sprinted down the track. He couldn't see Kageyama next to him, so he figured he must be winning, and the thought made him put on an extra burst of speed, determined as he was to have triumph.

This proved to be Shouyou's downfall. The thump of his feet on the ground turned into an odd slap, and too late, he realized his golden sandals would betray him after all. The flimsy bottom heel bent back on itself as he took his steps and he went from running one instant to tripping, and falling, the next—exactly as Kageyama had predicted.

With a disgraceful squawk, he went crashing face first into the ground, arms stretched out in front of himself, feet flying up into the air so violently that one of the sandals was flung clean off his leg, despite the intricate lacing.

For a moment, he simply lay there, too embarrassed to move.

Then footsteps crunched in the grainy earth next to him, and a voice said, "This is why I told you to change your shoes."

"I wouldn't have needed new shoes," Shouyou said into the sand, "if you hadn't put me in these stupid sandals to begin with." He was aware he was being ungrateful. He was too humiliated to care.

But Kageyama ignored his insolence. "Are you hurt?" he asked.

Since he likely wasn't asking about Shouyou's pride, Shouyou replied, sullenly, "No."

To his shock, he found himself being rolled over, off his stomach and onto his back, to squint up at the bright halo of the sun behind Kageyama's head. The centurion peered down at him.

"You scraped your nose," he said. "And your forehead. And your knees."

"So?" Shouyou asked. He was acutely aware of all the places he'd scraped himself, because they stung, and probably had sand in them. He wanted to cover his face with his hands, but he'd scraped his palms, too, so he kept them awkwardly pressed to his stomach.

"So, you are hurt," Kageyama said. "I'll take you back to your room."

"I'm not hurt! That's barely anything!" Shouyou protested, and then yelped, as Kageyama bent to loop his arms under Shouyou's arms and knees. "I can walk!"

"I know that," Kageyama told him, sounding irritable, though he picked Shouyou up very gently. "I've seen many wounds on the battlefield."

"Then you know I'm fine," Shouyou said.

"I do," Kageyama agreed. "Now stop being so noisy and let me take care of you."

"What?" Shouyou asked, bewildered, but Kageyama was already no longer paying attention.

"Bring two pots of water—one warm and one cool—and clean towels to his room," he was saying to a servant, who had hurried over when Shouyou had fallen. "And some bandages."

"I don't need _bandages_ —"

"And sweets," Kageyama added. "Lots of sweets."

"Oh, sweets are fine," Shouyou said, quickly. He shifted awkwardly in Kageyama's arms, too nervous to fully relax.

"The sweets I have here are very fine," Kageyama said.

"I noticed, yes."

"They're imported. They come by ship."

"Hmmm," Shouyou said, nodding. He sensed that it was important to Kageyama, this continual emphasis on all the fine things he owned.

"If you have a favorite, tell me," Kageyama continued. "It would be easy to have as many brought in as you like. You could eat ten for every meal for a year."

That didn't sound horrible, Shouyou thought. He nodded up at Kageyama again. "Okay. But I'm only staying here a week."

"I'll eat them in remembrance of you," Kageyama said solemnly.

"I'm not _dying,_ I'm just going back to the temple."

"I know that. I've seen many deaths on the battle—"

" _Don't_ finish that sentence," Shouyou told him, and then burst out laughing at the affronted look on Kageyama's face.

The most surprising part of the entire incident came when they arrived back at the room. Shouyou had thought Kageyama would let the servants tend to him. Instead, Kageyama had him sit on the bed, where the servants had set two silver jugs of water on a small table nearby. The centurion then put a stool in front of him, and sat down on it himself, dipping a soft towel into the jug of warm water, first.

"Show me your hands," he ordered.

Hesitantly, Shouyou held his hands out, palm up. Kageyama made a disapproving noise, a short "tch" behind his teeth, before he took one of Shouyou's hands in his much larger one, and began to clean the blood and dirt off of it with the warm water.

Shouyou winced, as sharp little pebbles caught and rubbed at his skin. Kageyama jerked his chin in the direction of the servants, and they hurried forward without him even needing to say a word.

"Open your mouth," he said.

"Why—" Shouyou started to ask, but his question was answered when the servant popped a sweet tart into his mouth.

"Distraction," Kageyama said.

It was a good one, as far as distractions went. The tart, buttery dessert melted on Shouyou's tongue, and even though the sting of his cuts was still there, it was fading, with the sweets and the cool cloth Kageyama pressed to his palms when he was finished cleaning them.

"Stop swinging your feet," Kageyama grunted, and Shouyou stopped, realizing he'd been kicking them reflexively, bouncing in place on the bed. Satisfied, Kageyama moved on to his bloody knees, paying them the same amount of care.

"Sorry," Shouyou said. "Nervous habit."

"Why are you nervous?" Kageyama asked, as he painstakingly wiped the blood away from Shouyou's skin.

"I don't…" Shouyou started to say, but stopped himself. It wouldn't be true, to say he didn't know. "I don't understand why you're doing this."

"I've cleaned many wounds," Kageyama said.

"Yes, on the battlefield, probably," Shouyou said.

"Then what are you asking?" Kageyama pressed, seeming unperturbed at being gently teased. He finished with Shouyou's knees, holding the cool cloth to those to help the pain fade.

It wasn't just that Shouyou didn't understand this one gesture—though it, too, was baffling. They weren't on a battlefield, and he wasn't an important soldier under Kageyama's command, so it made no sense for Kageyama to take such care with him. But beyond that, there was a larger mystery at play.

"What do you… _want_ with me?"

Kageyama didn't respond at first. He turned his attention to Shouyou's face, first, to dab at the cuts on his forehead and nose. But his gaze shifted, until he was looking into Shouyou's eyes, and Shouyou into his. And then, as though he'd been searching, and found something, Kageyama answered.

"I want to treat you well," he said. "I want to give you a reason to stay, when the week is done."

"But why?" Shouyou asked.

And then, brief and fleeting, before it was gone again, Kageyama gave the smallest of smiles.

"Because you wanted to race me without even taking off those stupid sandals."

*

Kageyama remained utterly true to his word. When he said he wanted to treat Shouyou well enough to make him want to stay, he had meant it.

The second morning Shouyou woke, again far, far later in the day than he'd ever been allowed at the temple, thanks to his daily duties and the bells that rang just after dawn. But here, at the villa, no one disturbed his rest. Even after he had pulled himself from slumber, he stayed curled under the whisper soft sheets, sinking into the cushioned bed below as the gentlest breeze rippled through the room, tossing his hair on his forehead where it poked out from under the covers.

A fine fragrance eventually caught his attention, sweet and delicate on the air, the freshness of flowers. It was so pleasant that it finally roused him fully and he sat up, wondering what it was, intent on investigating. Immediately, he found he need look no further than his bedside.

 _"Oh…"_ he gasped, rubbing his eyes as he took in the sight before him.

The entire floor of his room had been strewn with rose petals, all soft pink and white. 

Shouyou stared in shock a moment longer, fingertips to his lips, struck silent both by awe and by the peace of that quiet, tranquil morning. But soon, curiosity overtook him, and he slid from under the covers, leg extended and toes pointed gingerly as he lowered his foot, ever so lightly, onto the flowers on the floor.

"Ah…" he sighed, a smile spreading over his face. He wiggled his toes, and then stepped fully onto the petals. They felt wonderful underfoot—silken and luxurious, and he pushed himself out of bed to take a few steps across the room, light on his toes.

He bent, scooping two whole handfuls up into his hands to press them to his nose and inhale deeply, before giggling outright, spinning in place as he let them fall through his fingers to cascade onto the ground.

The petals, however, in addition to being soft, were rather slippery upon the gleaming, marble floor—and he flailed a bit as the twirl turned wobbly, feet sliding across the ground.

A pair of strong hands landed on his arms to steady him, and he stumbled, right against the very firm chest of his host, who he had not seen climbing the stairs to the summer room. Kageyama stared down at him, expression neutral as always.

"Good morning," Shouyou said, absolutely breathless, at the situation, at looking right into Kageyama's blue eyes while standing on a floor made of flowers.

"Have you slept well?" Kageyama asked him, and Shouyou nodded.

"Yes," he said, "I—who brought the flowers? What are they for?"

"I had them arranged for you last night while you slept," Kageyama told him. "I didn't want the floor to be too hard or too cold when you woke."

Shouyou gaped at him. "All of this… so my feet wouldn't get cold?"

"Are you pleased with it?" Kageyama asked.

Shouyou wanted to tell him it was unnecessary. It was over the top and rather ridiculous and _slightly_ embarrassing, and the floor wouldn't even get that cool in the summer.

"I am," is what he said instead, in a rush, and blushed when he realized it was true. He was immensely pleased, both at the lengths Kageyama was taking to ensure his comfort, and the way it made him feel, a little burning warmth deep within him. He bit his lip when Kageyama nodded, satisfied.

"Good. Are you hungry?"

"I'm that, too," Shouyou told him, and let Kageyama bring him to a breakfast that would make kings weep to taste it.

When he had said he wanted Shouyou to feel as though he were a divine, revered god, he had not been speaking lightly. Shouyou, who had grown up used to the sparse lifestyle of the temple, now learned what it meant to have his every whim catered to, to want for nothing, if he so much as thought of it.

Kageyama was always by his side, if Shouyou desired him to be. And Shouyou did, endlessly and selfishly. He learned, quickly, that he was allowed to take liberties with teasing Kageyama, liked the thrill of sneaking in a sly comment here or there and watching Kageyama look at him in disbelief, as though he'd never had anyone so much as think of laughing at him before. Shouyou liked to imagine he was the only one who had ever been allowed. Often, Shouyou would find himself on the receiving end of a bluntly worded remark or comment, until they were trading jibes back and forth as they walked the grounds or lounged in one of the gardens in the sun, eating and drinking to their heart's content while servants fanned them.

But it wasn't just fine food and clothes Kageyama offered him. There were certain other activities, as well—experiences Shouyou never could have had in the temple.

"Are you ready?" Kageyama asked him one of those days, voice low in Shouyou's ear.

Shouyou nodded, squirming with nerves, and Kageyama pressed closer to him, sliding a strong, reassuring arm around his waist. Shouyou closed his eyes.

"Tell me," Kageyama murmured, "if I go too fast."

And before Shouyou could reply, the centurion cracked the reins he held in his hand, and the horses that pulled his chariot burst forward into a thundering gallop.

Shouyou clung to the front of the chariot as his heart leapt into his mouth, and Kageyama held him somehow tighter still—how he was managing to stay upright, Shouyou had no idea. His own legs felt like they might give way any second at the tremendous, heavy vibrations reverberating up them and into his spine. His skull rattled inside the grand helmet Kageyama had given him to wear, one of Kageyama's own armor pieces.

The horse hooves pounded against the dirt of the track Kageyama led them around, and once he found his voice again, Shouyou shouted in utter delight.

"You aren't frightened?" Kageyama yelled over the rushing wind, and Shouyou laughed wildly.

"I'm terrified!" he called back. "Keep going! Faster!"

His legs wobbled from adrenaline and the exertion of trying to stand upright when they finally stopped, not wanting to tire the horses. Shouyou beamed up at Kageyama, whose own hair had become magnificently windswept without the use of a helmet.

"What?" Kageyama asked gruffly. "I've never heard anyone scream for so long without taking a breath."

"It was _fun,_ obviously!" Shouyou wobbled towards him, aggressively. "I bet I can also beat you in a chariot race by the end of the week."

Kageyama snorted, and then turned, bending down and motioning for Shouyou to get on his back. Shouyou did so gratefully, wrapping his arms around the other man's shoulders and laying his cheek against his back. Kageyama slid his hands under his shaky legs to support him, standing easily, as though Shouyou weighed nothing.

"You can barely see over the front of the cart," Kageyama told him, "so _obviously,_ I highly doubt you'll be able to beat me. But…"

"But what?" Shouyou asked.

"If you want, I can commission one for you."

"Commission what?" Shouyou asked.

"A chariot," Kageyama told him. "A small one." He turned his head enough that Shouyou could catch a glimpse of his smirk. "It would be pulled by the finest ponies."

"Ponies?!" Shouyou shouted indignantly, as Kageyama chuckled self-satisfactorily.

"Sorry," he said, sounding not sorry in the slightest, "would you like something larger to ride?"

Shouyou blinked in response, flustered, and then pressed his cheek harder against Kageyama's back.

"I'm only here a few more days," he said. Just three. Kageyama hummed, but did not say anything further.

But the next day, he announced decisively, "You'd stay longer, if you could."

Shouyou gazed up at the sky above them. They were outside in the gardens, relaxing under waving palm branches that provided shade from the sun, as he and Kageyama lounged on silken cloth and plush pillows. Shouyou had sprawled comfortably in the shade, and thought he may be ready for a short nap. The feeling was magnified, as he listened to the soft music of strings being gently plucked. 

He rolled over to look at Kageyama, who sat lazily propped up by cushions, idly strumming a small golden lyre with his fingers. The servants had been right—he was surprisingly skilled, though the instrument seemed nearly too gentle for his blunt temperament. The sounds practically floated away on the breeze, but they were hypnotic all the same, lulling Shouyou into a deep sense of warm happiness. It was rather the same way he felt whenever he was around Kageyama at all, he thought.

True to his word, Kageyama had given him many, many reasons to want to stay. There was the food, and the piping hot baths, the soft, perfectly fitted clothing, the different colors and types of flower petals on the floor every morning, when he woke up.

And there was also the strange camaraderie he and Kageyama shared, unexpected but instantaneous. Arguments and jokes at one another's expense that felt more like friendship than anything Shouyou had ever experienced before.

But how much longer could he entertain this man who had everything? Kageyama had the world to give him, but what more could Shouyou give in return?

Kageyama, for his part, seemed content to wait on a reply to his declaration. 

"I can't stay," Shouyou finally said. He was getting used to Kageyama's uncompromising way of phrasing things, now, knew he was really asking if Shouyou didn't want to leave.

"Why not?" Kageyama asked. He stopped his playing for the time being, and the last abruptly paused notes from the lyre rang soft and suspended before fading.

"What could you give me if I did?" Shouyou asked. "What more could you possibly have?"

Kageyama looked surprised, for a moment. Then he frowned. "You're saying I have nothing else."

"Not that what you _have_ given me isn't enough," Shouyou said quickly. "But… now I've had it."

Kageyama continued to frown. He shook his head. "You're wrong."

"Am I?" Shouyou wondered. "Then what would you give me?"

"Things _you_ can't even imagine," Kageyama said, somewhat petulantly. "If we had more time, we wouldn't need to stay here, either. I could take you places you’d see things you'd never forget, do things you've never even dreamed of—"

Shouyou laughed at him. "You're being too vague, _dominus,_ you could just be making all of this up."

"I'll show you making it up—" Kageyama growled, practically tossing aside his lyre. He grabbed a handful of grapes from a nearby bowl and started attempting to mash them into Shouyou's face, as Shouyou shrieked and struggled. "All this food," Kageyama continued, teeth grit, "is regional, by the way. _If_ I had more time, I could give you the most exotic foods. I bet you don't even know what a mango is."

"Never heard of it," Shouyou said cheerfully, before snatching a grape from Kageyama's fingers between his teeth. "I like grapes just fine."

The annoyance faded from Kageyama's face. He settled down against the cushions next to Shouyou to watch him. "I know," he said.

Shouyou swallowed the sweet fruit, and watched him in return. Without looking away from Kageyama's face, he searched for the rest of the bunch Kageyama was still holding, brushing the centurion's warm fingers with his own. He plucked one from the bunch and shifted closer to Kageyama, to press the dark purple fruit to his lips. Kageyama ate it from his hand.

"You like them, too," Shouyou said.

"Yes," Kageyama said. As close as their faces were, Shouyou could smell the sweetness of his breath.

Shouyou picked another grape and brought it to Kageyama's mouth. He bit his lip, breath hitching, as Kageyama slipped it from his fingers with his tongue, brushing light and wet against Shouyou's skin, dark eyes never leaving his.

"But you don't think they're good enough?" Shouyou asked softly.

"No," Kageyama said.

"Why?" Shouyou asked.

He slid his hand down once more, trailing his fingers over Kageyama's skin, the warm underside of his wrist and palm, to steal another piece of fruit. Kageyama moved closer, this time, and Shouyou rolled the grape over his lips with one finger, slowly, from side to side. Just as Kageyama opened his mouth to eat, Shouyou closed the minuscule distance, slipping the fruit into his own mouth. 

His lips grazed Kageyama's for a fraction of a second, and for a moment, neither of them moved at all.

When Kageyama finally spoke, his voice was deep and steady and burning with something Shouyou wanted to cling to and unravel.

"Because I could give you…" he murmured, "so much _more."_

Shouyou shivered, bodily, all the way down to his toes, and Kageyama reached out to slide his hand against the back of Shouyou's neck. His touch felt _good_ there, felt necessary, and Shouyou shut his eyes, breaths coming too fast and shallow.

"Shouyou—"

"What about me?" Shouyou whispered.

"What?" Kageyama asked.

"How could I ever—" Shouyou swallowed. "What am I supposed to give _you?"_

When he opened his eyes, it was to see Kageyama looked caught off guard. "Nothing," he said, as though it were that simple. "There is nothing anyone can give me I don't already have. Why would I expect that of you?"

"You can't just—give and give and _give_ me things, without ever getting anything in return," Shouyou told him. Kageyama was stroking the back of his neck with his thumb, slow and soft, and he bit back a sigh of longing. "Wh-what… about…"

"Yes?" Kageyama asked.

Shouyou had no idea how to phrase his next thought. Desperately, he sought for words.

"When I… first arrived. There was a man." The image came into Shouyou’s head again, Kageyama, uncaring and emotionless, as he let himself be pleasured. "He touched you. He was… for you, he…"

"Ah…" Kageyama said, and Shouyou blinked heavy eyelids at him. "No. I wouldn't expect that of you, either."

Shouyou shook his head. "Then—"

"People want to please me," Kageyama said. "And I let them." He moved his hand from Shouyou's neck, to rest at his throat. "So, what if I want to please you?"

"I—" Shouyou felt his voice choke, slid his fingers up against Kageyama's hand on his throat. He stared at Kageyama with wide eyes, overwhelmed. "You… want to…"

"Would you give me that?" Kageyama asked. "I could make you feel better than anyone else ever could."

"I know," Shouyou gasped, squeezing his eyes shut. Kageyama had not yet failed to keep a single promise to him. But that was the problem. What happened after he lost interest in a temple boy who could promise him nothing? "But I have to leave."

Kageyama was silent. Then, gently, he pulled his hand away from Shouyou's, until they were once again no longer touching. Shouyou opened his eyes to look at him again, almost afraid of what he'd find in Kageyama's eyes.

But Kageyama didn't look upset at all. "Okay," he said, with a nod.

"It is?" Shouyou asked. He'd expected much more resistance.

"Anything you want," Kageyama reminded him, "no matter what it is in the world. It's my responsibility to give it to you."

"It's not your responsibility to do anything for me," Shouyou said.

"Maybe that's just what I want, then," Kageyama told him.

This, for Shouyou, was the hardest part of Kageyama to resist. The simple sincerity, buried under his bluntness and bluster and arrogance. But it made Shouyou smile.

"Thank you, _dominus,"_ he said. "I'd stay longer, if I could."

*

On his last day, Shouyou made the best kind of mistake.

He'd joined Kageyama on the exercise field regularly. So far this had mostly consisted of more races, a few tosses of the spear-like javelin, and one ill-advised wrestling match that hadn't been very strenuous, as far as wrestling went, but had still ended with Shouyou panting and red in the face, pinned to the ground under Kageyama within moments. It was not a bad place to end up, but it was still dangerous for Shouyou's resolve, and he hadn't asked to try again.

His attempts to persuade Kageyama into showing him how to throw a discus were a different matter.

Shouyou had been fascinated by the sport, unable to stop thinking about it in the days since he'd first seen Kageyama's perfect form as he moved through the motions. But six days was hardly enough time to grasp the basics, let alone become competent. This made Shouyou very impatient.

"Not that one," Kageyama said, the instant Shouyou went to grab a full weight discus, instead of one of the lighter practice versions he'd been using up until that day.

"It'll be fine," Shouyou said. He lifted the disk and puffed out his cheeks, adjusting his stance at the surprising heaviness.  

 _"Oy._ " Kageyama squinted at him. "Do you remember when we first raced, and I told you to take off your shoes or you might fall, and you said—"

"You're just—nervous," Shouyou grunted as he hefted the discus in one hand, "about how quickly—I'll get better than you—" His arm drooped, shaking violently as he tried to raise it in line with his shoulders. All he had to do was spin, and let go, anyway. He just needed to toss it.

"No," Kageyama said. "I'm really not nervous about that at all."

"You're about to be," Shouyou proclaimed. He took up his mark, trying to ignore how hard it was to hold the discus upright.

"Shouyou, hang on—" Kageyama started to say, but Shouyou was already moving. He spun, and he let go—

—entirely too early. Halfway through his spin, he lost his grip on the heavy object, and it traveled nowhere but down, directly onto his foot.

He let out a screech of startled pain as he toppled over. Kageyama swore, rushing forward to where Shouyou had sat hard on the dusty ground.

"You're an  _idiot,_ " Kageyama said, seething. "You're a danger to yourself—"

"I just wanted to try," Shouyou hissed. "It's just—ow, ow!" He bit his lip as his eyes teared up at the pain. His foot throbbed painfully, and stung where the skin had been bruised by the metal disc.

"Idiot," Kageyama said again, but his voice, though still rough, had become much softer. He took hold of Shouyou's foot in his big hands, touch gentle, though even the light brushes on Shouyou's skin made him wince. Kageyama let out a sigh of relief. "It's not broken."

"Of course it's not," Shouyou grumbled, even though he'd been afraid it might have been.

Kageyama tilted Shouyou's chin up and Shouyou was left with no choice but to glare at him through watery eyes. Kageyama looked unimpressed by his angry expression; but he cupped Shouyou's cheeks in his palms, swiping the wetness on his lashes away with his thumbs. Shouyou's bottom lip trembled, very much against his will.

"How am I supposed to let you go tomorrow?" Kageyama asked, quietly, and the tears welling in Shouyou’s eyes finally flowed over. He stared morosely at Kageyama, refusing to acknowledge the pain in his foot or the fact that he was now silently crying. Kageyama sighed, and continued to brush his tears away as they fell. "You can't even walk home now."

"I can't stay," Shouyou said, voice thick and snotty. He couldn’t just abandon the temple, not when they’d given him a home for so long. 

"You're a handful," Kageyama told him. "I'll figure something out."

What Kageyama planned to figure out, Shouyou didn't know. By the time evening had fallen, he was kicking himself for his stupidity. Though Kageyama had still spent the day with him, Shouyou's lack of proper mobility meant they were mostly confined to the summer room. While there was plenty to eat and drink, as ever, it was still disappointing—they could have walked about the grounds on that pleasantly warm day, or kicked their way through the elaborate fountains, or had more races. But Shouyou had ruined those chances instead.

To add to his frustration, Kageyama seemed keen on hearing about what Shouyou expected to do once he was situated back at the temple. This was the last thing Shouyou wanted to talk about—because though he felt an obligation to the priests who had raised him, he didn’t feel ready to return. He didn't want to talk about the temple and the services and his routine, average days. The irritating thing was realizing it wasn't because he was worried about missing the lavish lifestyle he'd had at the villa (though he certainly would miss that, as well). It was worse, because he was dreading leaving Kageyama, once and for all.

And then, when it was barely dark, Kageyama took his leave of Shouyou.

"You're going? Already?" Shouyou asked, sitting up in the bed to watch Kageyama, eyes wide. Every other night, there had been eating and talking and entertainment long into the evening.

"I need to make sure everything is in order for tomorrow," Kageyama told him.

"But—"

"You're the one who made this more difficult than it had to be," Kageyama reminded him. Shouyou fell back against the pillows in a huff, and Kageyama shook his head. "I'll see you before you leave, stupid."

 _That's not good enough,_ Shouyou wanted to tell him, but he knew the unfortunate turn of events was his fault. He stayed silent, instead.

Left with nothing to do, he decided to have an early bath. He stubbornly refused the help of the servants, hobbling his way to the private baths he'd been using since his first night at the villa.

The baths were as luxurious as the rest of the place, perhaps even the pinnacle of their design. The one Shouyou had been using must have been grander than any bath house, even the ones only high-standing patricians were permitted to use. It was an entire set of rooms, with high ceilings, the floor carved out for the water, so that someone could swim through from door to door. The walls were inlaid with deep blue tile, which lent an airy silence to the room.

The air was thick with steam as Shouyou lowered himself down into the water, clinging precariously to the stairs. The intense heat was almost uncomfortable, the hot water on his injured foot painful at first; but as he grew accustomed to it, it soothed the ache into a dull throb. But still it reminded him how, like an idiot, he'd injured himself when he had to make the long journey home tomorrow.

Tomorrow, he'd leave.

He inhaled deeply and sunk underneath the surface of the water, submerging himself. He wanted to snap out of this, he needed to, it was pointless. He'd had a week of fun, and now it was time to go back to his real life, his real home. Better now, than have things end poorly later, when Kageyama grew tired of him, grew  _bored…_

With a gasp, he broke the surface again, drawing air back into his lungs. He shook his head from side to side, water droplets flying off the drenched strands of his hair.

"Shouyou," a voice said, surprised in tone, though not quite a question. He froze, eyes flying open.

Kageyama had entered, was standing in the entryway and staring at Shouyou, and Shouyou stared back in stunned silence. He hadn't expected to see Kageyama here—moreover, he certainly hadn't expected to see Kageyama so very, perfectly naked.

"Oh," Shouyou whispered. This was all he could manage at the moment. Anything else would be too difficult, when he was so thoroughly distracted, by the way Kageyama's skin gleamed under a sheen of steam and sweat, long legs and shadowed hipbones and droplets of water trailing slowly over the well-defined ridges of his stomach.

This wasn't like when he exercised naked out on the track, where Shouyou was invited to watch, and anyone could walk by. This was somewhere Kageyama expected to be alone, and most embarrassingly of all, Shouyou realized that Kageyama wasn't the only one in the room wearing nothing.

In fact, it was the first time he'd ever seen Shouyou naked.

"I didn't realize—" Kageyama started to say, and Shouyou yelped, floundering around in the water.

"Sorry!" he said. "I didn't even—I didn't know I was using your private bath, no one told me, I've just been coming here since the first—" But that was no good, he didn't want Kageyama to realize they'd been bathing in the same water all this time, that Shouyou had been soiling it every night. He felt paralyzed. What if Kageyama had been bathing after him all this week, using Shouyou’s dirty water? That was surely the pinnacle of rudeness, after Kageyama had been so accommodating of him so far.

"I told them to have you use this one," Kageyama said, finally, after Shouyou had frozen up for so long that he was left with no choice but to speak and break the silence. Shouyou gaped at him disbelievingly. "I wanted you to have privacy. It wasn't my intent to interrupt you. I'll come back later—"

"No, please!" Shouyou cried out, and then realized he had no idea why he was pleading. Except he didn't want Kageyama to go. "You haven't interrupted me. These are your rooms,  _dominus._ I've finished, I'll leave."

"There's no need," Kageyama said. Shouyou stopped moving. "Stay. How is your injury?"

He slid into the water, and Shouyou took a moment too long to reply, distracted with watching him. When Kageyama continued to look at him expectantly, he chirped, "Fine!"

He sank lower into the water, trying to make himself as small and hard to see as he could. He didn't want Kageyama to catch sight of how scrawny he was (though he was sure he'd at least put on some weight after his stay at the villa). His clothes, minimal as they had been, had hidden the flaws of his figure and accentuated the positives. He wondered now if that's why they'd been chosen for him. Compared to Kageyama, who may as well be perfect, he was embarrassed.

"You don't have to be worried about your departure tomorrow," Kageyama told him. "I've sorted it out."

"Th-thank you," Shouyou said, somewhat confused. He wasn't sure what there could be to sort.

"But if your leg pains you, you should speak up now," Kageyama continued.

"Ah, it's…" It ached, and was still an embarrassing reminder. Shouyou sank lower and blew bubbles in the water with his mouth, avoiding looking in Kageyama's direction.

But his attention was pulled back, when Kageyama pushed away from the wall, to wade closer to him in the hot water. Shouyou watched him approach with wide eyes, still sunk to his nose in the water. He had to stare straight up, by the time Kageyama had come to stand directly in front of him.

"You're hiding," he said to Shouyou. Shouyou shook his head vigorously, despite Kageyama being completely correct. "I'm making you uncomfortable."

Shouyou shook his head again, and then finally stood, hugging his chest with his arms awkwardly. "You're not! Or at least… it's not your fault… exactly."

Kageyama tilted his head, clearly confused. Shouyou sighed.

"You've never… seen  _me_  unclothed before," he said. "And I'm not—I don't want you to think I'm—" He wasn't sure how to phrase his newfound worries. He just didn't want Kageyama to see how unimpressive he was, after a full week of nothing but adoration.

As always, Kageyama became impatient quickly when Shouyou stalled. He put his fingers under Shouyou's chin, and as soon as their eyes met, Shouyou crumbled.

"I don't want you to think I'm—inadequate," he blurted, the words tumbling out of him.

Kageyama blinked at him. "What are you talking about?"

As embarrassing as it was, Shouyou couldn't look away from him, as his explanation came rushing out.

"I know you've been so kind to me because you think I'm special, somehow," he said. "And I—I like it. I like when you say I'm special, or a gift, or… whatever it is you thought. But I just... don't want you to realize how normal I really am, not now." He took a deep breath. "I don't want to leave and have you see how easy it is to have someone else take my place."

Kageyama's eyes widened. "You are," he said, slowly, as though coming to a grand revelation, "the stupidest person I've ever met in all my life."

Before Shouyou could respond to the insult, Kageyama took his face in his hands and bent low, low, and Shouyou stopped breathing.

Kageyama pressed his lips to Shouyou's cheek, lingering for a moment, so that Shouyou could feel the soft whisper of his breath there, before pulling away to watch Shouyou's face, as it flared hot and no doubt brilliantly red, from his neck to his hairline.

"I'm…" Shouyou whispered, voice stolen, "I'm not stupid."

Kageyama leaned close again, and kissed his other cheek. "You are," he murmured. He pressed his lips to Shouyou's ear and growled, "Stupid."

Shouyou whined, and reached for him, unable to resist any longer. Just that was fine, just touching him once… he rested his palms on Kageyama's warm stomach, and the centurion gathered him in closer, as Shouyou slid his fingers up his body, over his wet skin. It was overwhelming; he'd never imagined that touching someone could feel so satisfying.

He tilted his chin up, trying to raise himself higher. Kageyama didn't need him to say anything further. He kept a tight hold around Shouyou's waist, to keep his weight off his injured foot. With his other hand, he stroked Shouyou's cheek, the feeling of his palm gentle on Shouyou's skin. Every kiss he laid on Shouyou's face—on his forehead, between his brows, his nose and the side of his jaw—came with another whispered insult, said so fondly and softly that they were better than any highbrow praise, better than love poems, better than prayers.

"You idiot," Kageyama breathed. He rubbed his thumb reverently over Shouyou's lips, and finally leaned close, and told him, "I've never seen anything as perfect as you."

"Kage—" Shouyou started to say, almost forgetting himself in the rush of euphoria that hit him at Kageyama's words. But then Kageyama was kissing him, Kageyama's lips had finally taken his, and even that happiness paled in comparison to the feeling.

_Warm._

He was so warm, Shouyou could drown in it. In him. He wanted to let himself sink under forever. Kageyama's lips were soft against his, fitted perfectly against him, firm but not demanding.

So Shouyou demanded.

He pressed closer, pushed harder, and the low rumble of a hum Kageyama let out made his heart pound.

"You want more," he said, and Shouyou loved his arrogance in that moment, his certainty, because he was right.

"Yes," Shouyou managed to say, "so—give me more—" His stomach clenched almost painfully when Kageyama groaned, the sound buzzing against Shouyou's lips. "Wh-what?"

"I've been waiting—for you to ask for me—" Kageyama said, the words broken up by the kisses he pressed to Shouyou's mouth, over and over. "I've been waiting," he said again, letting his hand slide over Shouyou's lips, dragging the bottom one down against his palm, "I've been  _waiting."_

Kageyama had  _waited_ for him. Shouyou tried to wrap his head around the thought as Kageyama kissed him again, the smallest nip of teeth before the slow press of lips on his, the addictingly soft slide of Kageyama's tongue against his own. Kageyama could have anything he wanted in the world, but he'd waited to have this.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry," Shouyou babbled, as Kageyama kissed the corner of his mouth, "I'm sorry,  _dominus,_ I shouldn't have made you—"

"Stop," Kageyama said. "It was my responsibility to prove my worth to you. Have I done so?"

Shouyou nodded. He couldn't stop staring at Kageyama's mouth. "You have," he said.

"Good," Kageyama said. "There is nothing you have to apologize for—except…"

Shouyou dropped his eyes, guiltily, wondering what Kageyama would say. For not making up his mind sooner? For leaving, after everything Kageyama had done? For not truly being sent by the gods?

"You didn't listen to me," Kageyama said, brushing his cheek softly. "You got hurt."

Shouyou looked back at him, blinking in surprise. "That was an accident," he protested.

"I told you it was dangerous," Kageyama said, though he seemed amused. "It doesn't matter now. I wanted you to be happy. I wanted to take care of you."

"You have been!" Shouyou said. He stared up at Kageyama, eyes rounded and innocent, and Kageyama kissed his forehead again. Shouyou decided this was another thing he liked very much. "You've taken very good care of me,  _dominus."_

"I'm glad to hear this," Kageyama said. "Given the circumstances, I had another thing in mind I wanted to offer you. If you'll allow it."

Shouyou found he didn’t need to hear Kageyama say it. "I'd like that," he said, and then gasped, as Kageyama scooped him up out of the water and into his arms. Shouyou blinked up at him, wordlessly.

"You're not embarrassed anymore?" Kageyama asked him.

"A little bit," Shouyou admitted. "But you… you said I'm perfect."

Kageyama nodded. "Yes. But I'd prefer to show you proof of that."

"How?"

"You'll see," Kageyama told him, with such certainty it made Shouyou laugh.

"I'm waiting," he said, as Kageyama carried him out of the bath, to wherever it was he would carry out the next phase of his plan.

Kageyama didn't have to take them very far. Located off of the baths was a set of rooms, dark, filled with steam and lush, leafy plants, even a little waterfall. Shouyou would have remarked upon how unbelievable that was, but he was too distracted, as Kageyama set him gently down on a long, low marble table.

"Are you going to have someone give me a massage?" Shouyou asked curiously. This was another thing he'd been spoiled by over the past week. He did like massages, very much, but he had to admit it wasn't quite what he wanted, just then.

Kageyama tilted his head, looking amused. "Yes. Were you hoping for something different?"

"I… I was," Shouyou said honestly. Even with how hot the room was, he could tell he was blushing. The steam and the lingering warmth from the bath had made him feel a bit lightheaded; but when Kageyama came to stand in front of him, gaze lingering on his body, Shouyou's head truly started to spin. "I was hoping for you."

Kageyama leaned in closer and Shouyou mirrored him, anticipating another kiss, hoping for it—but the centurion simply reached around him, to grab a carved stone jug from a low table behind Shouyou.

"You're in luck, then," he said quietly, into Shouyou's ear, and Shouyou couldn't contain his delighted shiver.

"You know how to do this, too?" Shouyou asked.

"Of course," Kageyama said. "I'm skilled in many areas."

Shouyou bit his lip at that but couldn't help the giggle that escaped him, though it came out somewhat breathless, as he watched Kageyama pour a steady trickle of oil into his palm, letting it pool there and drip down the sides of his hand.

"'Many areas' is vague, _dominus,_ " Shouyou told him, flippantly; but he tightened his hands against the edge of the table he was sitting on, when Kageyama sank to one knee in front of him, between his legs.

"I'm very talented," Kageyama clarified, "physically."

He rubbed his hands together, then reached out and—to Shouyou's surprise—slid one of his hands under Shouyou's leg, to raise his foot into the air. The oil on his palms made his touch smooth and slick, and he began to stroke the sensitive skin of Shouyou's calf, from the back of his knee and down to his ankle, thumbs kneading in gentle circles. Shouyou closed his eyes, tilting his head back in pleasure.

"Does it hurt?" Kageyama asked him.

"No…" Shouyou murmured. It was difficult to even talk, with how relaxed and wonderful he felt. "It—ah… it's sore, there…" The top of his foot and area around his ankle were still painful, but he opened his mouth to tell Kageyama that it was okay, with the way he was touching him so carefully. But then he felt the softest pressure against his skin, not hands or fingers, and he looked down. "Oh, no— _dominus,_ don't—"

Kageyama flicked his gaze upward, from where he'd bowed his head, to kiss the top of Shouyou's foot. He moved his lips higher, trailed his mouth over Shouyou's ankle to kiss him there, too, didn't pull away for a long moment. When he finally did, it was only barely, to speak words into Shouyou's skin.

"My purpose was to keep you safe," he said, "and now you're hurt."

"I—" Shouyou tried to swallow, to make it easier to speak, but it didn't help. "It was my fault—"

"No, I should have stopped you," Kageyama said.

"How would you have stopped me?" Shouyou asked him. He wanted to be more annoyed with the other man, but he couldn't—not when Kageyama somehow seemed to blame himself for Shouyou's injury, not when he was so upset Shouyou had gotten hurt to begin with. Not when he kept touching Shouyou the way he was, hands massaging away the soreness, lips pressed to the inside of his leg, to Shouyou's knee, summoning up an entirely different sort of ache.

"You promised to obey me," Kageyama reminded him, "while you are here. I've been lenient. And you… you are disobedient."

They did something, to Shouyou, those words. He'd been called difficult before, hard to handle, to control; he'd been expected to be quieter and more thoughtful and more obedient his entire life. He should have been used to it, but the thought only made him want to shout louder and run faster.

It should have been no different, that Kageyama should impose the same rules upon him. His position and power already demanded obedience from everyone around him—Shouyou didn't need to be told his insolence was out of line.

And yet. Kageyama murmured those words out against his skin and then breathed him in, breathed deep with his mouth and nose pressed to the soft creasing of Shouyou's knee. Kissed him open-mouthed there, as though it wasn't utterly beneath him, to lay his attention on Shouyou's insignificant, common-born feet. He dragged his teeth against the flesh of Shouyou's calf, and Shouyou gasped shakily.

"Will you… make me obey?" he whispered.

And Kageyama shook his head. "No," he said, not the answer Shouyou expected. He laid his cheek on Shouyou's thigh and looked up at him like it was Shouyou who commanded him, and not the other way around. "No, never."

"Why?" Shouyou asked him.

"Because that _look_ in your eyes," Kageyama said, "that's how I know you were sent for me."

Shouyou nodded, not even bothering to correct him. He didn't need to correct him. Kageyama was right.

"All for you," he breathed, as Kageyama pushed his slick hands over Shouyou's knees, up his thighs, and Shouyou spread them, unashamed of the way his cock stood hard and pink between his legs.

"I would have spoiled you if you stayed," Kageyama said, with a kiss pressed high on the inside of Shouyou's thigh.

If he stayed… Shouyou bit his lip and whined as Kageyama kissed even higher, until he was close enough to breathe on Shouyou's cock, licking his lips as he watched it bob right in front of his eyes.  

"The temple… doesn't allow…" Shouyou mumbled, swallowing a groan when Kageyama looked up at him, eyes dark and wanting. "We're… supposed to stay…" Purity and virginity was valued by the deities Shouyou served. But he didn't think he cared anymore. It was impossible to care about some far off gods and their rules, with Kageyama right there with him, between his legs and watching him like _that._

"You're not at the temple," Kageyama said simply, and Shouyou crumbled.

"And you still have one night," he told Kageyama. "So _spoil me._ "

Kageyama did not need to be told twice.

Shouyou gripped the table so hard the skin at his knuckles began to whiten, as Kageyama pressed his nose into the crease of Shouyou's hip, trailed his lips over his skin, until he was nestled right against the soft patch of red curls at the base of Shouyou's cock, breathing deeply.

"It's better to hold on to me," Kageyama said.

"Can I?" Shouyou asked, and when Kageyama nodded, he finally moved his hands to cling to the centurion, sliding over his broad shoulders, into Kageyama's hair. Kageyama hummed, approvingly, and then, finally…

If Shouyou had been under any illusion, had thought for a moment that Kageyama may find the act of serving beneath him, he was swiftly proven wrong. He caught his breath, as the centurion raised his head, to touch his lips almost curiously to the side of Shouyou's shaft, before running them up it, light and teasing.

"Ah—sorry—" Shouyou gasped, trying to loosen his fingers in Kageyama's hair. He'd grabbed a fistful, when Kageyama reached the tip of his cock, mouthing softly over it.

Kageyama smiled, then, a self-satisfied smirk that made Shouyou's cock twitch against his lips. He darted his tongue out, a little swipe over the tip, and Shouyou grit his teeth.

"You can pull my hair," Kageyama told him, and Shouyou flexed his fingers in the dark strands, breath huffing out of him. "You're not going to be able to stop yourself."

"Wh-why—" Shouyou began to ask, but he cut off, as Kageyama opened his mouth to take him in, swirling his tongue wetly over the head before sinking down over Shouyou's cock. Shouyou cried out, fingers twisting in his hair, so tight he knew it must be painful. But it was reflexive, with the way Kageyama was now sliding his lips over his cock, slow and deliberate. Shouyou tugged at his hair as his eyes slipped shut, and he swallowed, with Shouyou pressed to the back of his throat. "Oh, _gods,_ a- _ah_ —"

It felt incredible, of course it did, but better still was watching Kageyama, the gratification etched across his face as he pleasured Shouyou, the knowledge that this was what the centurion wanted _most._ That all along, he’d been waiting to satisfy Shouyou, just like this.

He raked his fingers through Kageyama's hair, head falling back as Kageyama slid his lips back up to suck on the tip of Shouyou's cock. His hips shuddered, when Kageyama ran his tongue over the slit.

"I'm—this is—" He wouldn't last, as inexperienced as he was. "I'll come like that—st-stop—"

Kageyama dropped kisses down the length of his shaft, before moving back to his thighs, biting him softly. "You don't want to come?"

"I _do,_ I do—" Shouyou tried to catch his breath.

"Is this not enough for you?" Kageyama asked.

"I don't want to come—w-without you!" Shouyou blurted.

Kageyama stopped his teasing, to look up at him. "Do you… think it can only happen once?"

Shouyou shook his head. "I want you to be satisfied, too, _dominus_." And it was true, he didn't like to think about Kageyama giving, and giving, while Shouyou had no way to repay him. But he also wanted more of Kageyama, wanted all that he could see.

"I already told you," Kageyama said, "I want to please you."

"You _are_ —"

"Tell me what you want," Kageyama said. "Anything you want from me, whatever you want me to do."

He didn't wait for a response—instead, he rubbed his lips against Shouyou's shaft before stretching them around his cock again, taking him in.

"Nnnh—I—I want—" Shouyou choked, and Kageyama rolled his eyes up to stare at him, determinedly, from between his legs. Shouyou knew he wouldn't be able to hold on any longer, not with Kageyama blinking up at him as he hollowed his cheeks and sucked him off, so he told him what he needed. "I want you to take me, I want to feel you in me—"

Kageyama moaned, then, and Shouyou seized up, every muscle taut—before he was sobbing, as his orgasm rushed over him in hard, pulsing waves. He hunched over Kageyama, head bowed and fingers holding tight to the other man's head, as Kageyama slowly pulled off him. Hazily, Shouyou watched him rub his mouth with the back of his hand, and realized he'd swallowed everything.

He leaned forward so suddenly he almost fell off the table, but Kageyama caught him in his arms, let Shouyou kiss him and taste himself, clinging a little too desperately.

"What do you want?" Kageyama asked him.

Shouyou rested his forehead on Kageyama's, limbs and eyelids heavy, a soft daze settling over him. "More," he managed to say.

Kageyama nodded, easing him into lying back against the low table, bending low over him. Shouyou whined softly—he wanted Kageyama, wanted to be held by him, against him. But Kageyama shushed him.

"If you want me," he said, "I have to prepare you."

"I am prepared," Shouyou said impatiently.

Kageyama snorted. "Lie still." He put a hand on Shouyou's chest, fingers splayed, and Shouyou quieted. "Good."

Any further complaints he might have had died quickly on his tongue, as Kageyama picked up the jug of oil once more. This time, instead of into his hand, he poured it directly onto Shouyou's body. It pooled at the hollows of his chest, in his navel, until Kageyama set down the jug and leaned over him, resting his hands on Shouyou's stomach.

Slowly, he pushed them up Shouyou's chest, spreading the oil evenly over his skin. It mingled with the sweat on Shouyou's body, the moisture from the perspiration and steam, easing the path for Kageyama's hands as he moved them in steady, firm strokes—over Shouyou's stomach, his chest, palms pressing hard against Shouyou's nipples, which stood pointed and pink and incredibly sensitive.

He arched his back at the sudden pulse of sensation, and Kageyama ducked down, capturing his mouth in another kiss right as Shouyou moaned, to swallow up the sound. He stayed kissing Shouyou, languid and slow, matching the heat that had already started to build again in the pit of Shouyou's stomach. But it was much softer now, as soft as Shouyou felt. He basked in the attention, Kageyama's hands running slick down his shoulders and arms, over his sides, to squeeze his hips.

"Hnnn…" Shouyou keened softly into Kageyama's mouth. "I like it…" He still felt shy, being so upfront, but it was fading. Kageyama had instructed him to say what he wanted, after all.

"It feels good?" Kageyama murmured.

"Yes…"

"It makes you happy?"

"Mmhm," Shouyou sighed, with a pleased shudder to prove it, as Kageyama mouthed at his neck. He slipped a hand between Shouyou's thighs, careful to avoid touching his cock, which was oversensitive and still soft.

"Keep talking to me," he told Shouyou. He trailed his fingers back, and then, suddenly, they were there—brushing just slightly against Shouyou's hole, and he tensed, and relaxed again, when Kageyama kissed his forehead. "You're okay."

The first full press inside him—just the tip of Kageyama's finger, slick with oil—made him squirm. It was a foreign feeling, not pleasant or unpleasant, and he said as much.

"Does it keep feeling that way?"

"Not exactly," Kageyama said, sounding amused. "If you don't like it, I will stop."

"I'm fine," Shouyou said.

"If you relax a little more for me…" Kageyama said, free hand stroking over Shouyou's chest, fingers flicking lightly over one erect nipple. Shouyou moaned, and Kageyama hummed his appreciation. "Like that, that's good."

"A-am I doing it right?" Shouyou asked him, swallowing another small gasp as Kageyama eased a little further into him.

"That's for me to worry about," Kageyama told him. "All you need to care about is getting what you want."

"Why is that— _ah_ —" Shouyou panted, staring up at him, as Kageyama pinched and rolled his nipple between his fingers, a shocking source of pleasure Shouyou had never known existed, "why is that—so _important_ to you?"

Kageyama cast him a look, stopping his teasing for a moment to flick Shouyou's forehead, a reprimand. "How am I supposed to spoil you, if _you_ don't know what you want?" he scoffed. "Stupid."

Shouyou would have responded, protested, maybe, but then Kageyama was moving his finger, curling it inside him, and the words were snatched from him. He squeezed his eyes shut, mouth falling open at the sharp spike of pleasure this caused, nearly painful in its intensity.

"Ah, there…" Kageyama said, pleased. "Do you like that?"

Breathless, Shouyou nodded. It was almost more than he could handle, but he was determined to have everything he could, while he still had Kageyama. And though it was a lot, he found it was still, somehow, not enough.

"I do," he said, "but—I want—more of you. More of you h-here—" He slid his hand down, brushing his fingers against Kageyama's, where Kageyama was sunk in him to the knuckle.

"You'll have all of me soon," Kageyama said. "But you're impatient, aren't you?"

"If I wanted to wait, shouldn't I have asked for that instead?" Shouyou huffed, and then gasped, as Kageyama pushed another finger in alongside the first, stretching him, filling him better. He laid his head back and spread his thighs apart wider, as the centurion covered his throat in heated kisses.

"I don't think I said you were permitted to talk back to me," Kageyama said, trapping Shouyou's skin between his teeth, biting and sucking it, sure to leave a mark.

"I'm sorry, _dominus,_ but—" Shouyou rolled his hips into Kageyama's hand, sliding his fingers into Kageyama's hair once more, and moaned, "now I know you like it when I do."

And Kageyama took him apart, for his presumption. He pressed into Shouyou, no longer tentative; slowly, steadily, he plunged his fingers inside Shouyou's body, until Shouyou was writhing on the table, desperate to be given more. And Kageyama's torturous hands belied his approval, as he worked Shouyou closer and closer to bliss for a second time, whispering silken praises into his soft skin.

"You know what I like so well, do you?" Kageyama murmured, lips pressed to the underside of Shouyou's jaw, and Shouyou trembled as he felt himself being stretched ever wider, as a third finger entered him. It no longer felt too strange; it felt amazing. And Kageyama, Kageyama liked him like this—Shouyou knew it, could tell from the way his eyes darkened, when they met each other's gaze.

He wished he had the time, to learn Kageyama even better.

"You'll like it inside me," Shouyou told him, with a certainty he'd never had until that moment. "You w-will, so, please—"

Kageyama slipped his fingers from Shouyou's entrance, and Shouyou collapsed back against the surface of the table, his limbs trembling, until Kageyama slid his hands under his body. He pulled Shouyou gently upwards again, into his arms, maneuvering them until he was seated with Shouyou in his lap, facing him.

"Tell me if you're too tired to keep going," Kageyama said.

"I will," Shouyou replied. "And I'm not!"

Kageyama let his grip slacken, and Shouyou slumped forward, until their foreheads were touching. He let his eyes flutter closed, looping his arms around Kageyama's neck, and sighed.

"Are you telling the truth?" Kageyama asked him.

Shouyou huffed. "I'm _not_ too tired to keep going," he said.

It was true, he was exhausted. He felt limbless, slow and sleepy. But Kageyama's heat was seeping into his skin, Kageyama was hard under him, and Shouyou could still feel the ghost of his touch, stretching him, pulling him open in the best of ways. But he could have even _more._

"I really _want_ to keep going," he said, softly. "And you said that's all I should care about, right?"

Kageyama took his face in his hands again, tilted it gently and was met with no resistance, as Shouyou raised his eyes to look into the centurion's. It was easy now, Shouyou didn't hesitate; and when he met Kageyama's stare, Kageyama kissed him, as slow and sweet as Shouyou felt.

"So you do listen to me, sometimes," Kageyama murmured.

"Sometimes," Shouyou agreed. "Are you going to take care of me, _dominus?"_

Kageyama didn't answer him in words. Instead, he helped Shouyou, picked his slack body up carefully to guide him into position, hands under Shouyou's body to support all of his weight.

"Sit," he told Shouyou.

Slowly, Shouyou lowered himself, legs shaking uncontrollably—he was relying entirely on Kageyama to support him. And then, he stopped, with a shuddering intake of breath, as he felt Kageyama there against him, pressing hot and thick at his entrance.

"Slow," Kageyama said, and Shouyou nodded, biting so hard at his bottom lip it stung.

Kageyama saw, shifted to hold him with one hand, still just as easily—his other hand he brought to Shouyou's face, brushing his thumb over his lips to keep him from breaking the skin, to kiss Shouyou again and again. And he bit, too, but the catch of his teeth on Shouyou's skin was gently possessive, and Shouyou let him in, let him take, until all he could taste was Kageyama on his tongue. And, slowly, he let himself be filled, everywhere.

"I di-didn't—" he groaned, "tomorrow, I—I d-don't—"

"Don't try to _talk,_ now," Kageyama said.

Shouyou nodded, taking a deep breath. It certainly was not like taking Kageyama's fingers. He whimpered as he sank down, pace measured only by Kageyama helping him ease himself lower. It hurt, at first, even after he'd been stretched; but he didn't want to stop.

Slowly, he kept moving, and slowly, Kageyama filled him, until Shouyou had made it, suddenly—until Kageyama was all the way inside him, holding him tight, and Shouyou felt, for the first time, entirely, completely full.

"Am I hurting you?" Kageyama asked, soft and attentive, and Shouyou felt an ache that had nothing to do with the way he was stretched around Kageyama's cock.

"No," he said. "No, this is—what I wanted."

Kageyama trailed his fingers up and down Shouyou's spine. "What were you trying to say to me? About… tomorrow?"

"I…" Shouyou pushed into him, put his face in Kageyama's neck. He liked this, this closeness he felt to Kageyama, not just physically, but in so many ways less tangible, ways that had been building since the first time they'd laid eyes on each other until now. "I don't want to go. Tomorrow, I—"

"It's alright," Kageyama said. "I understand. Really, you're not so far away."

Shouyou tensed against him, wondering—if Kageyama was offering what Shouyou thought he might be—

"I can send the temple things, things you like," the centurion continued. "I know they don't like to indulge, but they can't refuse if it's from me—"

Shouyou pulled back to stare at him, open-mouthed. But if anyone were to miss the point of everything, then, he supposed, it would be this man—the same man who was made so confident by his abundance of material wealth and possessions would of course never be able to see past them to the true reason Shouyou hated the thought of leaving.

"I don't care about any of that," he said, and Kageyama lapsed into silence, halted mid-sentence. Shouyou squeezed his shoulders with his trembling fingers. "I don't want to not… see you anymore."

"What?" Kageyama asked, dumbly.

"I don't want to leave you!" Shouyou said, so loudly that Kageyama winced. "I want to stay with you."

Shouyou had seen Kageyama look confused, often, but his expression now was different. It wasn't confused, but stunned, overwhelmed. Suddenly, he put a hand at the back of Shouyou's head, and pulled him in close, nearly crushing Shouyou to his chest.

"Can I move?" was all he asked, and Shouyou, who had by this time become adjusted to the feeling of having him inside, said,

"Please…"

He stifled his next cry into Kageyama's shoulder, as Kageyama gave them both what they'd been needing—rocking hard and slow up into Shouyou, hips rolling steadily as he began to fuck him.  

"Don't hide," Kageyama murmured, as Shouyou buried his face to try and keep his high pitched gasps from escaping, too embarrassed to let them be heard, "Come, Shouyou—you're always loud otherwise—"

Shouyou turned his face enough to pant, "Because you _n-never_ —listen to me otherwise— _ah_ —"

"I'm listening now," Kageyama promised. "Tell me…"

Shouyou's breath hitched, and he clung a second longer, but then Kageyama implored him once more, to tell, to let him hear—and Shouyou couldn't deny him anything, not at that moment. Not when Kageyama had denied him nothing, had given him all he wanted.

He let his head fall back, moaning out the pleasure he was feeling, long and breathy, voice stuttering every time Kageyama thrust up into him, breaking and shuddering.

"I f-feel so good," he said, "you feel really, really—"

Kageyama shifted him, pulled his hips closer, and Shouyou choked off as a sensation hit him, stronger this time, heat unfurling inside him and dragging him right to the edge of withstanding it all.

"I'm glad for whatever brought you to me," Kageyama said, and Shouyou shook his head desperately, because if there was one thing he couldn't stand from Kageyama, especially now, it was his strange, unwavering honesty. "Whoever sent you, whether it was to honor me or punish me by taking you away again—"

"Don't—" Shouyou started to say, but got no more words out, because Kageyama had kissed him silent again.

"I'm glad," Kageyama said again, when he pulled away. "Even if you can't stay with me."

Shouyou buried his hands in Kageyama's hair, voice choking out of him in a helpless sob, as he came again, shaking in Kageyama's arms.

"F-finish," he demanded weakly, as his hips rolled and slowed and the tightness in his stomach loosened gradually. "Y-you promised…"

Kageyama's mouth fell open as he nodded, a soft motion of his head, brows knitting together, and Shouyou slid his hands to hold his face, dropping their foreheads together. And when Kageyama came, bouncing Shouyou out of rhythm as he rocked his hips, Shouyou knew it had been to please him, just like everything else Kageyama had given him.

"Mmm…" Kageyama murmured, the deepest rumble of satisfaction, and Shouyou started to smile. He'd satisfied Kageyama, all by himself. Kageyama brushed his fingers over his cheek lightly. "Tight little thing. You did well."

Shouyou covered his face. "You're _embarrassing!"_ Then he peered through his fingers. "I did?"

"For once, yes." Kageyama grabbed Shouyou's hands when Shouyou yelped at the insult, smacking Kageyama's chest with his fists. Kageyama lifted him up, and Shouyou scrunched his face up in displeasure as he slipped out, leaving behind a wet emptiness that was far less enjoyable than what had come before it. "Alright. I told you I'd take care of you…"

He stood, hugging Shouyou to him, and Shouyou curled into his arms and the warmth of him, as Kageyama brought him back to the summer room. They didn't bother to dress, and what they had done must be abundantly clear to everyone they came across, from the lingering traces all over Shouyou's body—slick pink skin and bite marks and wet between his legs. He cared very little about the fact that everyone would see. But he liked that Kageyama waved off the servants that hurried to their side.

"I'll tend to him myself," Kageyama told them.

And when they reached the room from which the entire city Kageyama owned could be seen, sleeping under the nighttime sky, Kageyama cleaned him and laid him in the soft sheets and kissed him until Shouyou was hovering on the verge of sleep.

 _"Dominus_ ," Shouyou whispered, barely able to keep his eyes open, "stay tonight."

Kageyama shook his head. "That would be… unwise."

"You're _not_ wise," Shouyou said, with a faint smile. "Why won't you?"

"Because I…" Kageyama paused, and shook his head. "I'm not wise. But even stupid men know to avoid a burning flame."

Shouyou yawned. "What does that mean?"

"Close your eyes," was all Kageyama said in reply, palm brushing over Shouyou's forehead in long, calming strokes, and in moments Shouyou was fast asleep.

*

The next morning came bright and all too swiftly. For the first time in a week, Shouyou was woken by something other than the warm breeze. A gentle hand on his shoulder shook him, and he cracked his eyes open, to see it was still very early, the sun beginning to rise.

He sat up, turning to see who had awoken him, hoping… but it was only a servant, waiting for him courteously. Shouyou sat up, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. He would need to get an early start on his walk to the temple.

To his annoyance, his foot had not fully healed. Walking on it still hurt, and he wished he could soak longer in the heated bath. Or perhaps an extra night, or two, until it no longer pained him… but he knew he could not give in to that temptation, without looking for the next excuse, and the next. He had said goodbye already. Delaying it further would only be worse.

When he had dried himself, the servants came forward with his clothes. It felt odd, to dress in his old temple toga; but it made him smile, to realize that Kageyama had kept it for him after all. It had been thoroughly cleaned, but the fabric looked so dull, now, and felt rough against his skin. He put it on nonetheless, and then followed the servants, back out to the entrance.

Though he felt a pang of sadness, there was some relief mixed in, at not seeing Kageyama waiting for him at the road—he didn’t think he could bear that. However, someone else was there.

There was a small carriage there, horse-drawn and made of gleaming wood, guided by a servant. Shouyou pointed at it, bewildered.

"Is this for me?"

The servants bowed to him. "The master said you were not to travel on foot, especially given your injury. Which he said you were to be reminded was your own fault, and as an apology, you are not to refuse his gesture."

Shouyou beamed. "That idiot," he said, fondly. "Tell him I'm still waiting on that chariot."

It was an entirely different experience, traveling the road home in a patrician’s carriage. When they had to stop at the inn halfway, Shouyou found Kageyama had given money and instructions to the servant accompanying Shouyou to pay for the grandest room—Shouyou convinced the man to split the allowance halfway, so they could each stay in comfort.

And then, the next morning, they arrived back at the temple. The priests emerged in quite a state at the sight of the carriage, and were summarily quite confused when only Shouyou climbed out of it, sheepishly. They had many questions, naturally, but before he could begin to figure out how to explain anything, the servant climbed down from the carriage and handed them a letter.

It was written on thick papyrus, and stamped with a very impressive, official looking wax seal, that Shouyou belatedly realized was Kageyama's military insignia.

"This was written personally by the master of the villa atop the hill, the centurion Kageyama Tobio," the servant announced, "and I was under instruction to deliver it to the priests of this temple."

"Whatever Hinata's done, I'm sure we can make it up to him," one of the priests said, already looking exasperated, as he opened the letter to read it. But his expression changed, from trepidation, to blankness, and finally to bewilderment.

"Wh-what?" Shouyou asked nervously. "What does it say?"

"It says…" The man squinted at the letter, and then at Shouyou. "He has… _implored_ of us… that we send you back. That you bring the payment next month. And—that we might lend you to him _every_ month from now on for one full week, as this last time…"

They were all staring at Shouyou now, the priests, the other acolytes who had come to see the commotion, even the civilians on the street whose attention had been drawn by the carriage.

"What in the names of all the gods have you been doing at the villa to cause him to take such a liking to you?" asked one of the elders.

"Nothing!" Shouyou said, far too loudly. This was obviously inadequate, however, and so he added, "Just a lot of… activities."

The servant who had come with him cleared his throat. "The master has enjoyed their time together very much."

Shouyou shot him a look, torn between panic and laughter. But this explanation seemed to satisfy the rest.

"Very well!" the elder said, still clearly in shock. "We are always happy to serve him in whatever ways we can."

"I will deliver the good news," the servant said, as he got ready to depart.

"Don't I even get a say in this?" Shouyou asked the man, though he already knew his smile must be giving him away. He wanted to jump in the air, but refrained, not wanting to appear too suspicious.

In response, he was handed another letter, bearing the same insignia. As the carriage rolled away, he opened it carefully, and proceeded to read.

Shouyou had grown up with tablets and texts in the temple, gods' tales, and so was privileged to have learned to read from a young age. Given Kageyama's social status, it was unsurprising he was educated enough to write, and Shouyou smiled at the scratchy scrawl he found.

 

> _Shouyou,_
> 
> _I thought if I asked the priests myself, it might make matters easier for you._
> 
> _It is obvious to me now that the gods have put yet more trials before me. Naturally, I will pass these tests. But I see I must overcome this first obstacle, the matter of your departure._
> 
> _I have realized that while you said you had to leave, you did not say you couldn't return. We will be reunited in a month's time, and I shall continue to prove myself worthy of a gift such as yourself._
> 
> _Also, you're an idiot._
> 
> _Kageyama_

 

Shouyou laughed out loud, and hugged the letter to his chest. He felt flooded with relief, and happiness. He would be going back.

He was looking forward to see how Kageyama overcame any other obstacles in his path.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **You'll find all the full size artwork in the fic**[on our collab blog](https://essiecorking.tumblr.com/post/161831229982/part-1-fic-art-part-2-fic-part-3-fic-art)! Please do check them out, as the tiny AO3 image does not do them justice :)
> 
> We can't thank [Ellie](http://ellessey-writes.tumblr.com/) enough for the endless proofreading she did for this project!!! She is actually sent by the gods <3


	2. Chapter 2

For one interminable month, Shouyou passed his time at the temple in a state of constant anticipation. He missed everything—the luxury of the villa, the lazy days, the way the breeze seemed cooler and the air less close at the top of the hill. But mainly, as he had known he would, he missed Kageyama.

He missed the centurion's voice, and so he tried to think about all the bad things about it, how brash it could sometimes be, or blunt, or blankly confused. It was no use. It only brought to mind arguing with Kageyama when he was annoyed, or the way Kageyama spoke his mind no matter what came into his head, or the way Kageyama didn't understand jokes, at all. Shouyou missed all of it.

Shouyou missed the attention Kageyama paid him—not because he liked being spoiled (though it certainly wasn't something he'd disliked, either), but because Kageyama made him feel as though he was so deserving of it. As though he were someone Kageyama found extraordinarily special.

Kageyama had wanted him to come back.

And so, as impatient as Shouyou was, each day meant he was that much closer to his return. As difficult as it was to wait, it wasn't impossible. But some things were harder to overlook than others.

There wasn't much privacy at the temple. This had never been a problem for Shouyou before; open doors and shared rooms and being surrounded by people were things he was both used to and enjoyed. But now, they made certain aspects of his life difficult.

The longer he let his mind wander, dwelling on the warm days and the villa and its master, the more his thoughts strayed to memories more specific… and less appropriate for his surroundings.

There were the memories of Kageyama's fingers drifting low on Shouyou's back, innocent enough to make Shouyou crave more, suggestive enough to make him shiver.

There was the lingering taste of Kageyama's lips on his, and the tingling Shouyou felt when he thought of the other places Kageyama's mouth had been, where he'd kissed Shouyou.

And then, without fail, there was the ache. The longing to feel Kageyama inside him again, deep inside him. And this, without fail, made Shouyou's already negligible amount of self control snap messily in two.

Except he could never get a moment's peace.

Four times now, as the days crawled by, he'd nearly been caught with his hands up his skirt. There was once in the bath, twice loitering in his bed at dawn, and once in the candlelit room used for private prayer, which would have been disastrous, to say the least. In his defense, it was supposed to be _private._

By the time a month had passed, he had edged past desperate, and settled somewhere in the realm of unhinged. Quite possibly, it was starting to show.

"Now, you remember the best road to the villa?" one of the priests asked him, as Shouyou hurriedly prepared to depart. He'd barely packed anything of use; he knew he'd have no need of it.

"I remember!" Shouyou said, hiking his bag over his shoulder, hastening to get out of the temple and onto the road of which they spoke.

"And the proper way to greet the centurion?"

Shouyou laughed awkwardly. "I can think of… several." He waved, as he hopped down the steps of the temple two at a time and headed across the road, dodging foot and hoof traffic as he went. "I'll be off, now! See you in a—"

"You forgot the money!" the priest called after him from the top of the steps, lifting the satchel aloft, and Shouyou halted in his tracks, sheepishly.

"Watch out!"

A loud burst of sound, startled neighing, made him whirl around. He almost lost his footing as he narrowly managed to avoid the carriage he hadn't seen approaching.

"Woah, there!" said the man at the reins. "Aren't you the one I'm supposed to be bringing back to the villa? I could've run straight over you!"

"You're here for me?" Shouyou asked. He hadn't expected anything as grand as this before he'd even set off on his journey.

"Do you have the note?" the servant asked him. "With the master's seal?"

Shouyou fumbled in his bag, pulling out the note Kageyama had left with him, one month earlier. He brandished it at the man, the paper shivering a bit in his grasp, so great was his excitement. The man squinted at it and nodded.

"Climb aboard."

And so, delighted by this turn of events, Shouyou set off for the villa once more.

Though he had his own room for the night at the inn, suddenly, all his blind desire was put into perspective. He would see Kageyama the very next day. And he knew, from experience now, how good it could be to wait to satisfy those urges.

But when he arrived at the villa the next evening, instead of finding Kageyama waiting for him, he was greeted by yet another servant.

"The master sent me to see you are made comfortable," she said.

"Why didn't he come himself?" Shouyou asked, barely managing to keep the accusatory tone out of his voice.

"He has been regrettably held up after taking an audience with a visiting senator, who wishes to seek his favor," the woman said with a smile.

"What kind of favors is he seeking?" Shouyou asked, squinting suspiciously.

"Not the kind you're worried about," she reassured him. "They speak of making war, not love. Now come—wouldn't you like to rest? A bath, a massage, dinner…"

Shouyou nodded, his spirits picking up. He didn't want his time with Kageyama his first night back to be wasted, but he couldn't deny that he had very much missed all the luxuries of the villa. He may as well take advantage of those while he waited.

So it was some time later, after he was clean and fed and relaxed, that he finally fell with a sigh into his old bed in his old room, which had been kept just for him. Of the clothes he had been given to choose from he had selected quite a small scrap of fabric, though a well made and abundantly soft scrap it was. It had no skirt or bottom half and consisted solely of a hole for him to put his head through, and a short front and back that covered very little past his hips, with soft ruffled waves down the open sides.

It hid nothing and revealed everything, but Shouyou no longer felt self conscious about that. Rather, arriving back at the villa had reminded him of all the things Kageyama wanted to give him, had told him he could have. He liked the cool night air and slide of silken sheets on his skin, and would like Kageyama's hands on him even better.

He tossed and turned in the sheets and many plush pillows, before rolling onto his back with a huff. He'd been waiting ages, and Kageyama hadn't even been there to meet him, _still_ hadn't shown up. Surely, Shouyou couldn't be blamed if he was unable to wait any longer.

Caught between disappointment and frustration, he tugged at the soft fabric at his waist, twisting it up in his hand before pushing it to the side, slowly. Even that faint whisper on his skin made him shudder.

He dropped a hand between his legs to rub his palm over his balls, groaning at the feeling; a muted tug in his stomach, that pulled harder and harder as he gathered himself in his fingers, squeezing and rolling. He didn't want it to be over too quickly, but it was difficult to pace himself once he'd started.

And then he remembered the way Kageyama had opened him up, prepared Shouyou to take him… how that had been slow at first, even difficult—but in the end, intense and overwhelming. Perfect.

There was the small matter of Shouyou never having attempted it on himself before; but, how hard could it be, he wondered, as he spied a vial of oil amongst the perfumes on the carved table by the bed.

The mouth of the bottle, he discovered after he'd leaned over and grabbed it, was too small for him to get any of his fingers very deep into it. He ended up having to turn the bottle over, only to find that the oil was much more watery in consistency than he'd thought. It poured over his hands and the bottle slipped from his grasp in his surprise, spilling all over the sheets.

"Oops…" he muttered. He stared at the oil dripping from his fingers.

A few seconds later, he had learned that just because his fingers were much smaller than Kageyama's did not mean he could thrust two in right away. Wincing, he readjusted himself on the pillows, angling his hips up as he fell back to rubbing at his entrance lightly, like Kageyama had done. This was better than rushing it, he decided, letting his head loll back as he circled his rim, allowing himself time to relax.

The first finger he managed to slip inside was still a little uncomfortable. But it had been the same way when Kageyama started, and so he kept at it, working in and out slowly, until it became less unpleasant. And then it started to remind him.

He closed his eyes, remembering the feel of Kageyama in place of his own hands. His fingers were thicker, longer, and just knowing it was him… but even if Kageyama _was_ late and a terrible host (Shouyou wasn't planning on letting him off the hook, aroused or no), Shouyou could still imagine. It wasn't very hard, when he was so close to having what he wanted again.

The thought of Kageyama's mouth on him made him brush the fingers of his other hand over his cock, but it wasn't enough, when compared to the memory. But what might work, he suddenly thought, was imagining something else; something else he hadn't done yet, but very much wanted to try.

He imagined what it would feel like, to have his mouth around Kageyama, around the thick length of his cock, letting Kageyama use his mouth as he pleased. He knew he was inexperienced, knew it would be a difficult thing on his first try, but Kageyama hadn't cared about that before. If Shouyou wanted it, he would give it, and Shouyou wanted to taste him, feel the weight of him.

He trailed his hand up his stomach, over his chest, and then slipped his fingers into his mouth, pressing down on his tongue.

It made him moan, because suddenly he could imagine it. The way he would please Kageyama, better than anyone else ever had—make a man who might as well be an emperor come apart, all for him. He would make it so Kageyama could never dream of looking at anyone but him. And that thought, the thought of Kageyama wanting him, and only him, made it easy—necessary—to push another dripping finger in along with the first, to try to feel half as full as when Kageyama had taken him. He curled his fingers, searching, remembering the feeling Kageyama had unlocked in him. But right before he could find it—

"You have no restraint," a voice spoke out, and Shouyou's eyes flew open.

 _"Dominus,_ " he gasped, because Kageyama stood there at the top of the stairs, watching him, with eyes hooded and dark.

"What are you doing?" the centurion asked.

Shouyou whimpered. "Y-you're _late._ "

"Not by choice," Kageyama said, approaching the bed. "You haven't been here two hours, yet you couldn't wait?"

 _"No,_ " Shouyou said honestly. "I couldn't, I haven't been able to get any time alone at the temple, and then I waited last night, but when I got here you weren't even _there_ , and I didn't know if I'd get to see you tonight—"

He fell silent as Kageyama unfurled and pulled off the white toga he was wearing, a much simpler and more reserved cut than Shouyou had seen him in before, presumably more appropriate for business. But now, he stood naked at the side of the bed, finally right in front of Shouyou again.

Shouyou stared, drinking in the sight of him. "I couldn't wait," he said again, breathlessly, as he curled his fingers in himself and cried out.

Kageyama wasted no more time, finally pulling himself into the bed to cage Shouyou under him, lips hovering a hair's breadth from Shouyou's. He closed his fingers around Shouyou's wrist, pulling his hand away, and Shouyou gasped and whined.

"I waited," Kageyama said softly, and Shouyou stilled under him.

"What?"

"Since the moment we parted," Kageyama told him. "I haven't touched myself, or let anyone touch me."

Shouyou blinked at him in uncomprehending silence. "That's… not possible. It—it was so _hard_ —"

"I know," Kageyama told him. "I didn't mean for it to be so difficult for you. But I wanted only you, so I waited."

Shouyou had no idea how to respond to this, but before he could, Kageyama slid an arm under him, and Shouyou yelped as the other man sat up, lifting him into the air to throw Shouyou clear over his shoulder. The slip Shouyou was wearing fell forward over his head, blocking his vision and leaving his ass feeling somehow more exposed than it had even seconds ago.

"What are you doing?" he squawked indignantly.

"I've been thinking about one thing, the past month," Kageyama said. He smoothed a hand down Shouyou's back before letting it come to rest on his ass, which was slippery from the excess oil. Shouyou writhed in anticipation as he felt one of Kageyama's fingers slip between his cheeks. "I haven't been able to stop thinking about opening you up for me."

This pulled a moan out of Shouyou, as Kageyama brushed a long finger against his entrance—and then he took his hand away. But before Shouyou could demand he put it back where it had been, he was stunned into a high pitched gasp, as Kageyama brought his hand down sharply, right against Shouyou's backside.

It wasn't a hard smack, just unexpected and startling, and Kageyama stopped there as Shouyou shivered against him.

"Too hard?" Kageyama asked him, rubbing his palm against Shouyou's smarting skin and Shouyou shook his head.

"N-no…" Shouyou said. "I can t-take more than that…"

"Oh, can you?" Kageyama murmured. "Because you do deserve a punishment, for depriving me the chance to prepare you."

"I— _ah!"_ Shouyou gasped, "I wanted to be ready for you faster, so— _ngh!"_

The next two impacts on his skin were even sharper, stung more, but the pain was not undesirable. Nor the sentiment, that he had misbehaved, and deserved such discipline from the master of the house.

"I wanted to watch you," Kageyama said, voice growing hoarse and heavy, "the first time you had your fingers in yourself—" The next time he brought his hand down against Shouyou ass was a little bit harder.

"I'm—I didn't know," Shouyou said, truthfully, and desperately, "I didn't think— _a-aah!_ I—I didn't think y-you'd care!"

"I do," Kageyama said. "I want to watch you fall apart."

"Then p-please—"

"No," Kageyama said sternly, teeth grit.

 _"Dominus—_ "

"Not until you apologize," Kageyama said, delivering another smack, and Shouyou wailed.

"Please," he begged, "I'm sorry, I'm sorry _dominus,_ I just want you to—have me—"

He braced himself for the next hard impact—but it didn't come. Instead, Kageyama repositioned him; putting him back down onto the bed on his hands and knees to move into place behind him.

He bent low over Shouyou, until he could put his lips to his ear, and then finally slid his fingers where Shouyou needed them, two rubbing hard at his hole before pushing inside him swiftly.

Shouyou threw his head back, crying out in pleasure, and Kageyama put his other hand at his throat, squeezed the tiniest bit and whispered to him, _"You're forgiven."_

"N-not—" Shouyou choked, "not enough—I want—"

"You're inexperienced," Kageyama said to him, working his fingers inside him roughly. "I need to make sure."

"Make sure… of what?" Shouyou panted.

Kageyama pulled his fingers away, slid his hands over Shouyou’s body until both came to rest at his hips. "That I can give you what you've been waiting for."

"I'm _ready—oh, ohhh—"_

Shouyou let his mouth drop in a silent moan as Kageyama filled him from behind, pushing solidly and steadily forward until his hips came to rest flush against Shouyou's skin, cock pressed in deep. It felt different, to the time before, when Kageyama had held Shouyou in his lap. It felt like the centurion had all the control, all the power.

Shouyou loved it.

"Hard, please," he whispered, and Kageyama listened.

He pulled out and then drove into Shouyou again, hips snapping forward, and Shouyou dropped from his hands to his forearms, body writhing, hands twisting the soft sheets up as Kageyama fucked him senseless.

The slap of their skin meeting made him sob—it was still sensitive after Kageyama had punished him, and stung every time they came together. Shouyou didn't care. All of it, the fullness, the soreness, the rough grip of fingers at his hips—all of it meant Kageyama had claimed him again.

He wouldn't last. It had been _so long_ —

"Yes, yes— _dominus—_ "

Kageyama growled and bent low, lips pressed to Shouyou's shoulders, and then the back of his neck. Oddly gentle, in contrast to the way he moved, hips unrelenting and bruising.

"This is why I waited," he panted, "I wanted _no one else._ "

Shouyou shuddered, clenching tight around Kageyama, and Kageyama hauled him up without warning, holding Shouyou tight to his chest as he came in thick ropes, streaking his heaving chest and stomach.

And then, at last, Kageyama was tilting his head, turning Shouyou's face toward him, so he could take Shouyou's mouth in a long, heated kiss as he spilled inside. The hard rocking of his hips began to slow, then, until finally they were left motionless and tangled with each other, Kageyama's arms round Shouyou, Shouyou's fingers reaching back to wind tight into his hair.

"Lift," Kageyama murmured, nose pressed into Shouyou's sweaty neck, and Shouyou did the best he could, rising up on his shaky knees so Kageyama could slip out of him. "Good."

"O-oh—" Shouyou breathed shakily. He could feel warmth trickling over his thighs, the wetness Kageyama had left inside him dripping obscenely over his skin.

"Satisfied?" Kageyama asked him.

Shouyou tilted his face up to look at him, contemplating. Then he nodded. "For now!"

Kageyama squashed his cheeks between his fingers.

"Don't do that after you put them up my—"

Kageyama kissed Shouyou to silence him. "Welcome back."

*

"Were you waiting long, this time?"

After three long weeks of being apart once more, Shouyou was ecstatic to be back at the villa for his third visit. The trip had been slightly wearying, even with the carriage Kageyama sent for him, but as soon as he'd bathed, he demanded Kageyama come see him at once. But once again, it seemed Kageyama had been held up by visitors—this time, Shouyou's curiosity had won out. He had gone searching, and found Kageyama hosting several high ranking generals and senators. The group was engaged in earnest discussion in one of the outside patios, Kageyama standing in their midst and seemingly lost deep in thought.

But as soon as he'd spied Shouyou peeking curiously from behind a pillar, he had cut the meeting short. Now they walked back arm in arm to Shouyou's room, where finally, Shouyou could have Kageyama all to himself.

"Not very long…" Shouyou said, nose wrinkled. "But can't they wait until _after_ I go back to the temple?"

Kageyama snorted. "They are very persistent."

 _"I'm_ very persistent."

"No, _you_ are annoying," Kageyama said dryly, flashing a wicked grin when Shouyou growled as threateningly as he possibly could.

Kageyama reached out and grabbed him around the middle before he could squirm away. So Shouyou, arms now trapped at his sides, settled for standing upon the tops of Kageyama's feet and forcing the centurion to perform an awkward waddle in order to walk, which Kageyama did without comment or protest. It looked incredibly undignified, and Shouyou giggled the entire way back to the room, imagining the looks on all Kageyama's important acquaintances faces if they could only see him.

Once back inside the room, Kageyama sat him on the bed, patiently enduring a sudden onslaught of affection when Shouyou scooted next to him to kiss his forehead, then his nose, then his cheeks.

"I try to time it, you know," he said, running a hand through Shouyou's hair. "I don't want anyone to get in the way of the time I spend with you."

"Oh." Shouyou pressed his face into Kageyama's neck and inhaled the faint scent of his sweat. After he had remained there, hiding, for quite some time, Kageyama spoke again.

"Have you ever tasted pomegranate?" he asked.

Shouyou drew back to nod enthusiastically at Kageyama, bouncing on his knees on the bed. "I had one once! I don't remember the taste, but I know I liked it!"

"Good," Kageyama said, clapping his hands lightly. Servants appeared, carrying silver trays, upon which sat a brilliantly crimson fruit, and a silver pitcher filled to the brim with steaming mulled wine.

 _"Uwoohhh,_ " Shouyou squealed happily, as the tray was set on a small table at the edge of the bed. "Can I have some?"

Kageyama looked amused. "You can have anything you want here," he reminded Shouyou. "But yes, I had these brought for you. Do you know how to eat one?"

Shouyou shook his head. Kageyama picked up the fruit in one hand, and held out his other, palm up. One of the servants placed a small knife into it. Deftly, Kageyama sliced off the protruding top and bottom portions of the fruit, then made several long cuts along the ridges on its sides.

"People say pomegranates are the fruit of temptation," Kageyama mused as he cut. "But, anything that tastes sweet will make people want it."

"Maybe it's because of the girl who got trapped in the underworld," Shouyou said.

"Mmm," Kageyama said absently. "What happened to her again?"

Shouyou pulled his feet up under him as he watched Kageyama. "A mortal girl was kidnapped by the god of the underworld and brought to live in his realm when he saw how beautiful she was. She knew she wasn't supposed to eat anything while she was down there, but in the end, she gave in and ate four pomegranate seeds. She couldn't help herself."

His eyes flicked back to the fruit, as Kageyama pulled open the peel, to reveal the jewel-like, ruby red seeds within the skin. They were wet, sparkling in the afternoon sunlight, and Shouyou's eyes went wide at the sight of them.

"I remember now," Kageyama said. He shook some of the seeds into his hand, juice collecting in his palm. "She had to stay in the underworld one month—"

"—for every seed she ate," Shouyou breathed, as he reached out, fingers closing around Kageyama's wrist. He tugged, leaned down, and brought Kageyama's hand to his mouth, so he could devour the mouthful of seeds.

He closed his eyes blissfully as the tart juices filled his mouth, greedily licked the excess off Kageyama's palm. It tasted as good as Shouyou remembered, probably better, considering the source.

"How many was that?" Kageyama asked, and Shouyou looked up at him, a trickle of juice running down his chin. He shook his head, because he didn't know, and Kageyama smirked at him. He took Shouyou's face in one hand and turned it to the side, leaning in to run his tongue over Shouyou's jaw and lips, over the dripping juice.

Shouyou whimpered, as Kageyama pushed him down into the soft sheets. "More."

"Greedy," Kageyama called him, scooping more of the seeds up with his fingers.

_"More."_

Kageyama rolled the little rubies over his lips, painting them red, and Shouyou opened his mouth for Kageyama to press the fruit onto his tongue. He closed his lips around Kageyama's warm fingers and sucked them clean, before Kageyama trailed his sticky palms down Shouyou's neck and chest.

Shouyou bit his lip. "You'll ruin it," he said, referring to his tunic, as fresh and white as always.

Kageyama growled and nipped at his ear. "You look better that way," he said.

As if to prove his point, he grabbed the silver pitcher from the nearby table, taking a deep sip straight from its side, before holding it over Shouyou's prone form. Shouyou stared up at him, wide-eyed, as he tipped it carefully, so that only the thinnest trickle of red flowed from its spout, and onto the white fabric over Shouyou's stomach, staining it darkened crimson.

The wine had cooled some, but it still collected heat right at Shouyou's navel, and he hissed, tossing his head against the pillows.

"Still too hot?" Kageyama asked.

"No…" Shouyou told him, then gasped, as Kageyama ducked his head down, biting Shouyou's belly through the fabric as he snatched it up between his teeth, sucking the spilled wine from the wool.

"Sure?" Kageyama asked him. "I know how… sensitive you are…"

"I just—" Shouyou said, "like it, when you touch me…"

He mewled as Kageyama pulled the tunic open completely, to survey the rosy patch of skin blossoming low on Shouyou's stomach. Contemplatively, he grabbed another handful of pomegranate seeds, and scattered them over Shouyou's pink skin, making Shouyou writhe at the cool feeling on his overheated body.

Then he yelped, as Kageyama tipped the pitcher again, pouring the warm wine over him. It cooled quickly, but the initial splashing still sent little stinging pinpricks scoring over his skin, enough that when Kageyama ducked back down to lap at the mess on his body it made him cry out at the slide of Kageyama's tongue, the graze of his teeth as he picked up each seed, one at a time.

Kageyama poured the wine over the grooves of his hips, pressing his mouth to the insides of Shouyou's trembling thighs. Shouyou knew Kageyama was purposefully avoiding touching his cock, which was laying hard and pink now on his stomach. But he didn't realize the true reason Kageyama was holding back, a rarity for him, until the other man spoke from between his legs.

"I want more of you," Kageyama told him.

It was as close to asking permission as he ever got. Panting, Shouyou glanced down at him.

"What do you mean?" he asked.

"I want to taste you," Kageyama explained, which really wasn't a helpful explanation at all.

Overwhelmed, Shouyou sprawled back against the pillows. "Do whatever you want," he said.

The next thing he knew, Kageyama was pushing a pillow underneath his hips, raising him up off the bed. His thighs were pushed apart wide, and Shouyou made himself pliant, ready for whatever Kageyama might want to do.

The first touch still surprised him. A soft, wet pressure against his entrance, different than anything they'd yet done. It was yielding, not like Kageyama's fingers, and not nearly as big as his cock; and then he felt whatever this new sensation was circle slowly over his hole, and he realized—it was Kageyama's tongue.

He let out a moan loud enough to shake the bed frame, and Kageyama wrapped a hand around one of his thighs and held him still. Shouyou tried to cant his hips up, twisting his hands in the sheets. Yes, he wanted this, too—wanted Kageyama to taste all of him.

"Can it go in me?" he whispered up at the ceiling, but of course, Kageyama was listening. He squeezed Shouyou's thigh and Shouyou felt him enter, warm and seeking more of him, and he sobbed.

Kageyama worked his tongue in and out, deeper every time, until rolling it made the outer edges push against Shouyou's rim, sending slow waves of pleasure over Shouyou's body, until his toes had curled, head tipped all the way back on the bed.

"H-how do I—taste?" he asked.

Kageyama curled his tongue once more and Shouyou arched his back clear off the bed, spilling silently, mouth dropping wide open like he would have moaned if he hadn't forgotten how to do everything but give in to Kageyama.

It was only after he was done, after Kageyama had run a damp, cool cloth between his legs and over the rest of his body, before tucking Shouyou into his arms, that the centurion answered him.

"Sweet," Kageyama said. "You taste sweet."

"Like pomegranates?" Shouyou asked him, sleepily.

Kageyama kissed his forehead. "Better."

*

On Shouyou's fifth visit to the villa, many new surprises awaited him.

The first was discovered the morning after he arrived, upon waking quite late after the sun had risen. Kageyama had already gone out to the exercise field instead of meeting him at breakfast, which was uncharacteristic—when Shouyou stayed with him, they always went together.

Perplexed, he headed out to the field to find Kageyama. Why hadn't he been waiting, Shouyou wondered; perhaps he would have to pout a bit first, before talking to Kageyama. Shouyou enjoyed their morning meals together, not only because the company was fun, but because he always wanted to see Kageyama as soon as he could when he woke. The centurion still never spent the full night in Shouyou's room, and Shouyou hadn't pushed him again. But even those few hours spent apart seemed like too many.

When he arrived at the field, however, an unexpected sight greeted him; one that explained Kageyama's sudden departure from their usual schedule.

Instead of Kageyama training alone, as he usually did unless Shouyou joined him, the field was filled. Shouyou's mouth fell open at the sight of so many bodies, where typically there had been none at all. They all appeared to be in the midst of running drills, exercising, sparring.

Then Shouyou spied Kageyama, walking up and down the rows of people—of soldiers, Shouyou realized. Every now and again, he stopped, to adjust someone's stance, or demonstrate a more proper form. In his wake he left a trail of open admiration. Those he gave advice to watched him attentively, some adoringly, though he gave no indication he noticed; instead, he showed them the same amount of care, listening as they talked, watching as they demonstrated what they were learning. If they needed to be corrected, he guided them. If they did well, he moved on, with a reassuring nod.

And though Shouyou knew that this was only normal for Kageyama, he couldn't help but feel his heart filling with pride, at watching the way the soldiers looked to Kageyama to lead them.

Shouyou chose to watch that day instead of participate, not wanting to force Kageyama to divide his attention. It was only after the training was drawing to a close that Kageyama spotted him over the heads of the crowd. He dismissed them, but many chose to carry on practicing, even as he made his way off the field.

"Where were you hiding all these people?" Shouyou teased, as Kageyama approached him.

"They arrived this morning," he said. "These are the empire's most promising soldiers—they've been sent to train with me."

"Wow…" Shouyou breathed. "That seems important."

"It is," Kageyama said. "They must be prepared when the time comes to fight. But—" he added, quickly, "it won't interfere with our time together much, I've seen to that."

"It's alright, _dominus,_ " Shouyou said. "It's… it's not so bad, watching you." He turned his face to the side, hoping Kageyama hadn't seen his pink cheeks, but no luck.

"Oh?" Kageyama asked, his voice now rumbling low, and Shouyou shivered. "You find me impressive, do you?"

Shouyou did, very much so. But he scoffed, and said, "What I find impressive is that they've given this task to someone who only ever thinks of food and sleep." Kageyama swiped at his head, and he dodged.

"And?" Kageyama asked, incensed. "How are those things any different to what _you_ think of all the time?"

Shouyou cackled. "And sex! I forgot the last one."

"Wrong," Kageyama told him. "The third thing I'm always thinking of is you."

Shouyou swallowed his laughter with a hiccup. He stared at Kageyama, stunned.

"I think about you," Kageyama said smoothly, "and how I had an amazing new gift to give you, which I think I now won’t."

He swept off, without a backwards glance, leaving Shouyou to squawk and sprint after him.

"Kageyama! What gift? Can you at least tell me what it is?!"

As it turned out, Kageyama's resolve was fortunately quite easily shaken when it came to Shouyou. He had indeed acquired a new marvel to bestow upon Shouyou, one that they had just begun to produce in the capital. It came in a small pot, and when Kageyama lifted the lid, its contents seemed to throw lances of light over the walls of the room, shimmering softly in the midday sun.

It was some kind of paint, but Kageyama said they called it "liquid gold". It was made with the real thing, and had the same deep lustre and shine.

"What are you going to do with it?" Shouyou asked.

Kageyama raised an eyebrow at him. "Paint."

"I know _that!"_ Shouyou huffed. "But on what?"

Kageyama kissed the pout off his face. "You," he said.

"Me?" Shouyou asked, as Kageyama slipped his fingers under his tunic sleeves, sliding them down his arms.

He undressed Shouyou slower than usual, eyes lingering on every inch of skin he revealed, fingers trailing over his throat, collarbone, all the delicate contours of his body.

Then he laid Shouyou in the sheets and kissed him, from the soles of his feet up, over calves and thighs, hands warm under Shouyou's body, as he raised Shouyou’s hips to scatter more kisses there, across his stomach and then chest, before rolling Shouyou onto his front and smoothing a hand down his back, like he was scouting territory. He hummed low in his throat, and Shouyou knew it meant he liked what he saw.

Shouyou stretched languidly, pleased at the attention, peeking over his shoulder to watch as Kageyama stripped out of his toga, tossing it onto the floor carelessly. Once naked, he pulled the pot of paint closer and dipped the tips of his fingers into it. They came out golden and Shouyou stared, entranced.

"You shouldn't waste that on me," he murmured, turning his wide eyes imploringly upon Kageyama, waiting for the answer he knew would come.

"Waste?" Kageyama asked. He looked at the gold dripping from his fingers, then back at Shouyou. "This isn't a _waste._ This is what you deserve."

Without warning, he swiped a finger swiftly over the tip of Shouyou's nose, so quick it startled Shouyou. He squeaked, jumping reflexively, but his nose had already been painted bright gold—if he crossed his eyes, he could see the sunlight winking off it.

Kageyama reached forward slower, this time, so as not to startle him. He brushed a painted thumb over Shouyou's cheekbone, cupping his face gently before he pressed their lips together, soft and warm. His mouth trailed lightly against Shouyou's bottom lip as he pulled away, leaving lingering, tiny kisses that made Shouyou want to chase after them. But when he opened his eyes again, he saw Kageyama was gazing at him.

"Why do I deserve it?" Shouyou asked, biting his lip as a smile formed there. He knew Kageyama saw it, from the way his own mouth quirked upwards. "Tell me why, _dominus."_

Kageyama stretched out next to him, lying on his side. He propped his chin on his fist and just looked at Shouyou.

Shouyou stared back at him, breath still taken by Kageyama's presence, his perfect, long body, every muscle highlighted in the light like the sun god himself had traced them.

"Is it because it will make me as beautiful as you?" Shouyou asked softly, reaching out to trail a single finger over Kageyama's nose.

Kageyama kissed the tip of his finger, before settling one of his own high at the top of Shouyou's spine. He spread a golden line all the way down, before drawing idle swirls at the small of Shouyou's back.

"When someone gives me a precious gift," Kageyama murmured, "I don't hide it away. I may be envied, but I put it on display, trusting it will always be mine."

Shouyou let his eyes flutter closed, soaking in Kageyama's words, his attentions, as Kageyama painted him golden, followed the paths of muscle and bone beneath his skin to make a living picture on his prized canvas.

"Anyone can look at it," Kageyama murmured, hands moving lower, "but it was given to me to treasure. And I will be rewarded doubly, because I'll always know it better than anyone else."

He stroked his hand slowly over the soft swell of Shouyou's ass, kneaded the pliant, giving flesh, covered it fully in gold. Shouyou laid his cheek on the sheets, whimpering, as Kageyama caressed his thighs and between them.

"People don't envy you because of me," Shouyou whispered. "They envy you because you're strong and powerful and rich—"

"Anything I have, people want," Kageyama said, "because everything I have is perfect. Are you simple enough to think that doesn't include you?"

"Not simpler than you!" Shouyou said, but he was breathless in his audacity, overwhelmed by happiness, and Kageyama ruffled his hair, pushing his nose down into the sheets. He leaned closer and pressed his forehead to Shouyou's shimmering shoulder, kissed his arm and nuzzled against him as Shouyou giggled.

"You're getting it all over you!" he exclaimed. "You're smearing it!"

"No, I'm not…" Kageyama told him. "But this will."

He reached out and pulled Shouyou against him, warm chest pressed against Shouyou's back. Shouyou keened in pleasure as Kageyama pushed the hand he'd used to paint with over his chest and stomach, flicking gold across his nipples and making him gasp.

"Open your legs," Kageyama said in his ear, and Shouyou obeyed, pushing one back over Kageyama's hip, so Kageyama could slide his clean hand down, fingers slick not with paint, but scented oil, to finger Shouyou open. Shouyou slid a hand back into his hair, clinging desperately, and Kageyama breathed in his ear, "Do I know you better than anyone?"

He rubbed his fingers exactly over the incredible pressure point inside Shouyou, that made his head spin, shocked him with so much pleasure his eyes filled with tears.

 _"Oh—_ ah, _yes—"_ he cried out. _"Dominus,_ please, please—"

"Then I'll take my reward," Kageyama growled, and Shouyou sobbed in his arms, as Kageyama pulled both of his knees up higher so he could enter him, rolling his hips to push his slick length inside Shouyou, until their bodies were flush together.

Kageyama clearly meant to ruin his earlier work, holding Shouyou tightly to his chest as he pounded into him hard from behind. And Shouyou loved it, loved it hard and unforgiving now, loved knowing he'd be taken care of so well after.

He moaned, over and over, louder and louder, as every rough thrust dragged him closer to finishing, felt somehow better than the one before it. Because he knew Kageyama, just as Kageyama knew him. Kageyama wanted to know how much Shouyou needed him.

He came first, fingers twisting in Kageyama's hair, and Kageyama grunted and eased back on his movements.

"Don't slow down," Shouyou gasped, exhausted, "k-keep going—"

Kageyama shushed him. "This is fine," he said. "Just like this…"

Before he let himself finish, hips rolling slow, he whispered many, many other things he'd give Shouyou soon, all because he could.

And Shouyou thought of one of his own, after a nap and sweet desserts and the softest kisses imaginable upon his skin.

 _"Dominus,_ " he said, and Kageyama looked up from where he'd been very seriously contemplating a tray of fruit pastries. Shouyou held up the pot of gold paint and beamed at him. "My turn?"

Kageyama reclined in the pillows, waving his hand lazily. Shouyou grinned as servants appeared, to feed Kageyama so he could lie there without moving and impeding Shouyou's work.

"If that's what you desire at this moment," Kageyama told him.

And though Shouyou wanted many things, this, for now, was a good start.

*

The villa had many rooms for storage; large, sprawling spaces with towering shelves, categorized by function and form, easy to get lost in and peruse for hours at a time for the sheer amount of wondrous marvels contained within their walls. Many of the rooms were sorted so the villa's servants could easily find whatever Kageyama, or the many esteemed and powerful patricians who so often visited him, wished for at a moment's notice.

Now, Shouyou was realizing, he fell into the same category of spoiled, pampered guest. Anything he wanted, desired on a whim, was brought to him before he could ever wonder about delay. Eventually, he'd gotten curious about how this was possible, and so Kageyama had brought him to the immense store rooms to show him.

 _"Uwaaaah!"_ he yelped as the doors were flung open wide before him by several men even taller and more muscular than Kageyama. The doors were _heavy;_ high and wide enough to let through several horse and carts side-by-side for efficiency's sake. Inside, rows upon rows of treasures beckoned to Shouyou. _"Dominus,_ can I look inside?"

"Should one of us accompany him, master?" asked one of the guards, anxiously.

Shouyou puffed his cheeks out indignantly. "But I'll be fine!" 

"Shouyou," Kageyama said, a slight admonishment. "They know I care for you, so they want to keep you safe." 

"Oh," Shouyou said, flushing. Chastised, he bowed to the huge guard, who returned the gesture in kind.

"I'll be with him," Kageyama said, "you can stay on guard." The men nodded to him, but before they could proceed, a voice called out for Kageyama. 

It was a servant who came hurrying up to them, accompanied by a messenger that had come to seek Kageyama himself. 

The centurion looked irritable. "Can it wait?"

"I don't think so, master," the servant said. "It comes directly from the imperator."

Shouyou's mouth dropped open as Kageyama took the parchment and broke the seal on it. Curious, he tried to peer over Kageyama's elbow as he read.

"The imperator?" he asked. "You mean—the _emperor_ —"

"Nosy," Kageyama said, putting a palm flat against Shouyou's face and pushing him firmly away. 

 _"Gwaaaah, dominus,_ did you do something bad?" 

"No. I'll be along shortly," Kageyama said, prodding Shouyou towards the door and the room looming beyond it. "Go see if you want anything in there."

This seemed like a far more enticing prospect than a political letter, no matter who had sent it, and Shouyou cheered and darted into the room.

It was slightly musty within the store room, the lighting low aside from the high windows lining the walls. There were plentiful torches that hung on the walls for the evenings, to help light someone's path as they searched among the vast, tall shelves.

Shouyou soon saw why this room had its enormous guards posted at the door. It was filled with the rarest of luxuries, jeweled powders and gold dust and gem-encrusted ornaments. Even in the low light, there were bright shimmers of sparkling color dancing around the entire room, rose pinks and turquoise blues and jade greens.

A curious smell caught Shouyou's attention, blown light and sweet on the soft breeze from the windows above. He sniffed and turned down one of the aisles, wondering what it could be.

"Don't get lost," warned a voice suddenly, from somewhere behind him. Kageyama, it seemed, had finished his business with the letter.

Shouyou laughed. "Come find me, then."

Kageyama did, as Shouyou wandered amongst the shelves.

"What did they need you for?" he asked absently as Kageyama came up behind him. There, on a shelf high above Shouyou’s head, was the source of the scent that had caught his attention. He hummed in pleasure as Kageyama slid his hands over his hips from behind, pressing close to him to trail kisses over the back of Shouyou's neck as Shouyou reached for the tiny glass vial.

"Military matters," Kageyama said in his ear. "Don't concern yourself. Now, what have you found…"

Shouyou unstopped the vial and inhaled, dragging his bottom lip through his teeth as Kageyama slipped a hand under the hem of his toga to brush the inside of his thighs with gentle fingers.

"What is it?" Shouyou murmured, words already becoming heavy on his tongue as Kageyama stroked his skin, touch warm and lingering.

Kageyama closed his fingers around Shouyou's wrist to lift his hand so he could smell the contents of the vial. "It's vanilla. You've never smelled it before?"

"No…" Shouyou said. He sighed as Kageyama pulled it slowly from his fingers to set it back on the shelf, so it couldn't spill. A good instinct, as Shouyou went weak-kneed and soft when the centurion pushed the precarious sleeve of his minuscule toga off his shoulder so it fell away to the floor. He pushed forward until Shouyou could feel him, hard even through the layers of cloth that slid against his bare skin.

"Do you like it?" Kageyama asked in his ear, as he began to grind against him, hard and purposeful.

"Y-yes," Shouyou gasped, reaching up and behind himself, to slide his hand against the back of Kageyama's neck and hold on. _"Yes,_ please, I like it a—a lot—"

"I wish I'd—" Kageyama let out a soft huff as he rolled his hips against Shouyou's ass. "I'll give you some of the flowers to take back with you. I grow it—here—"

Shouyou tilted his head back languidly. "Show me."

"Alright," Kageyama agreed. "After…" He brushed his warm palm down over Shouyou's stomach, fingers trailing over Shouyou's hard cock.

"Nnnh," Shouyou shook his head, sliding his fingers between Kageyama's own as Kageyama rubbed him. "Now. I want to go now. Have me there."

"They're in my garden," Kageyama said, and Shouyou knew he must mean the garden of pleasures, with its wanton revelry and enjoyments of the flesh. "There might be many people around."

"I don't care," Shouyou said. "Take me."

Kageyama nodded, fervently, casting his eyes about the space. On a shelf near to the perfume was a stack of neatly folded cloth. Kageyama grabbed at them and pulled, making a mess of the stack as he freed a long length of sheer material from the pile.

"Here," he said, draping it over Shouyou so it covered him from head to toe in gauzy, translucent fabric. It still left very little to the imagination. Kageyama cupped Shouyou's cheeks in his hands, the feeling of his thumbs stroking Shouyou's skin muted by the cloth. "I don't want anyone else to see you like this. Not before you've come with me inside you."

Shouyou shuddered, exhaling on a moan. "Then, _hurry_."

He let Kageyama lead him out to the gardens, where the normally vivid greenery was tinted by the gold of the setting sun. As expected, at that time of day quite a few of the villa's visiting patrons had filtered out to enjoy the balmy, sensual warmth that came only at the close of day, as the heat of the afternoon faded to cooler breezes and the growing dark of evening. Shouyou could hear soft, shivering gasps mingling with the rush of the wind. He stared at Kageyama’s back, his broad shoulders, barely paying attention to where his feet were carrying him. He wanted Kageyama to make his voice run hoarse.

The vanilla plants were housed apart from the winding pathways and lounging areas, in a tucked away corner Shouyou had only noticed before due to its striking architecture, though he hadn't known its purpose. Here there were many tall fountains, and the whole area was constantly wet by the gentle mist they produced. It was the first time Shouyou had stood in that part of the garden, and now he noticed something about it in surprise.

"It's warm!" he said. He could feel the humidity in the air even through the gauzy veil over him.

"There are fires kept running to heat the fountains," Kageyama said. "These plants only grow in air such as this."

It felt almost dream-like, the soft haze on Shouyou's skin matching the one in his mind, as he drifted closer to the plants and their intoxicating scent. Here in the humid air, it was heady and thick around him.

"They wouldn't grow at the temple," Kageyama said. "But I could have some of the flowers pressed and dried for you to carry with you—"

" _Dominus,_ " Shouyou said, smiling. Kageyama turned his attention back to him from where he'd been seriously surveying the plants, clearly already trying to devise the best way to send some back as mementos with Shouyou. "Did you still want to…"

"Oh," Kageyama said, looking for a moment almost flustered, as Shouyou climbed onto a low cushioned lounge, sitting up on his knees and spreading them apart, trailing his fingers over the insides of his thighs.

This seemed to remind Kageyama quickly of where they'd left off, and he stepped closer, into Shouyou's space once more.

"Yes," Kageyama murmured, sliding his hands down Shouyou's shoulders over the thin material of the veil. It had dampened in the misted air, clinging to Shouyou's skin, cool except for where Kageyama's warm hands bunched and dragged the delicate material.

Shouyou sighed and tipped his head back eagerly, as Kageyama ducked down to trail open-mouthed kisses over his skin. It felt odd, tingling and far away—not the full heat of Kageyama’s lips, not the wet slide of his tongue, blocked as they were by the fabric. But it was so thin that the sensation was almost, _nearly_ —torturous, for those slight missing elements.

The torture was only magnified, when Kageyama stroked his hands over Shouyou’s chest, fingers finding his nipples where they peaked hard and pink under the veil. And Kageyama took the chance to make him suffer wonderfully, twisting the little nubs in between his fingers, pinching through the soft fabric as it grazed over Shouyou's sensitive skin. He arched his back in pleasure, so Kageyama had no trouble fastening his lips over them to suck hard until they were red and Shouyou was moaning.

He only managed to catch his breath when Kageyama stopped, abruptly. Before Shouyou could ask him what was wrong, he spoke.

"This is not for you to watch," Kageyama said, voice blunt. Blearily, Shouyou looked at him, confused, but then he saw Kageyama's attention was not directed at him; he was looking past Shouyou, instead. Shouyou turned his head to follow his gaze and saw their passing through the garden had not gone unnoticed.

The guests in that part of the garden had stopped to pay attention to them, perhaps drawn by Shouyou's liquid sounds of arousal, or by the presence of the master of the villa himself, feeding someone else's desire so readily. Shouyou shivered.

"No," he whispered, "let them."

Kageyama turned back to look at him, his eyes hooded and dark. "You are mine," he said, simply, and Shouyou reached for him, wanting to touch his skin with no barrier between them, no matter how thin.

"I _am,_ " he promised, and Kageyama leaned close, lips brushing Shouyou's lighter than breathing. "I want you to show them."

He felt his breath come short, at how swiftly Kageyama pushed him down to lay spread and ready beneath him on the lounge, raising the veil to Shouyou's hips as he settled over him. There were oils in the garden, several different kinds kept under the lounge where they lay, and Kageyama made sure to choose one that was unscented, so Shouyou never lost the sweet scent of vanilla that had brought them there.

Kageyama opened him slowly with his fingers, but fucked him hard, sitting back on his heels as he rolled his hips against Shouyou's, so that everyone could see. See the way Kageyama broke him down, writhing, shivering, wordless, had Shouyou crying out for him, reaching to hold him like a believer reached for the heavens and the gods above. But it was only after Shouyou came with a sob, hips shaking, cock twitching cum onto his belly, that Kageyama lowered himself again to cover him with the whole of his body, tugging the veil entirely off him.

"I've allowed them more than enough," he said, a low rumble in Shouyou's ear. "They know."

Shouyou turned his head to the side to look, saw through the haze of his still thick arousal the silent watchers, the desire and envy and most of all, understanding, etched on their faces.

He kept his eyes trained on them as Kageyama rocked into him, dragged his fingers up the smooth, shifting muscle of Kageyama’s back, and Kageyama groaned at the scratches he left, long red welts Shouyou would be able to see and touch and trace the next day. And at the end, he curled a hand slowly against the back of Kageyama's neck to grip him there, fingers twisting into the centurion's hair as Kageyama moved sure hands over his body, holding Shouyou tightly to him until he had finished. Not until Shouyou felt him tense, and release again, hips stuttering, did he look away from their observers.

He belonged to the master. This was indisputable. And for now, Kageyama was his.

"Leave," Kageyama ordered the onlookers, then, and this time his tone left no room for argument. Satisfied as he was, Shouyou wouldn't have said anything otherwise.

"Are you angry I made you share?" he asked, feeling suddenly nervous, despite his playful tone.

Kageyama raised his head to look at him. Aside from his red cheeks and disheveled hair, his face had returned to its default neutral expression. "That wasn't sharing. That was temptation. They will want you, but can never have you."

"Because I was given to you," Shouyou said, and was rewarded with a rare smile.

“Because I made you mine,” Kageyama said.

It seemed too presumptuous to ask Kageyama if it worked both ways—if Kageyama would give himself over, the same way Shouyou belonged to him. But it didn't matter in the end, Shouyou thought, as Kageyama kissed him properly, lingering and soft with Shouyou’s face cupped between his palms, now that the veil had been cast aside.

This was already more than Shouyou had ever thought he would have.

*

Ten months after Shouyou's first visit to the villa, there was another party.

There seemed to always be revelry of some kind going on at the villa, but never a celebration as grandiose and purposeful as the one that had been in full swing the first night Shouyou had ever set foot in Kageyama's home.

On the last night of his eleventh visit, however, there was to be another gathering at the villa. Throughout the past few months, after the letter from the imperator had been delivered, Shouyou had heard talk whenever he was at the villa of another upcoming campaign. It was all very political and dry, but news of the party had caught Shouyou’s attention. A celebration was customary, Kageyama had told Shouyou, to mark the start and end of a military endeavor, and Kageyama would need to be in attendance as the host.

"What will I do, then?" Shouyou had asked, when Kageyama had informed him of the party early on in the week. He had told Shouyou quite abruptly on a lazy walk around the villa gardens.

Kageyama had looked at him blankly. "You'll accompany me," he said.

Shouyou stared at him. "I… _could_ I?"

"Why couldn't you?" Kageyama asked. His brow had begun to furrow, as he contemplated. "Do you not wish to?"

"I do!" Shouyou said. There was perhaps nothing he wanted more, than to be the one by Kageyama's side at such an important event, one which Kageyama was hosting, no less.

That was the exact issue at hand, however. There was no possible way it would go unnoticed, a commonplace temple boy like himself standing next to one of the greatest legionnaires the empire had ever listed in its army's ranks.

But Kageyama's frown had disappeared with Shouyou's declaration, smoothing out into calm reassurance once more. Shouyou smiled. If the only thing Kageyama was worried about was Shouyou not attending with him, then Shouyou needn't feel any more concern.

"There'll be food, right?" he asked cheerfully.

"Of course," Kageyama said, as though the question wasn't wholly redundant. "I've made sure to alert the servants to all your favorites."

Shouyou barreled into his arms joyfully, and Kageyama caught him and pinned him to his chest to minimize his flailing. Shouyou popped his head up to look at him, grinding his chin into Kageyama's chest. The centurion winced, but didn't loosen his hold.

"Did you remember those little doughy bread pockets with the—"

"—ground pork inside them, yes, I did." Kageyama scoffed. "You never shut up about them. Besides, I like those, too."

"Oh, so you only remembered them because of that?" Shouyou needled, and then squealed as Kageyama hoisted him into the air to sling over one of his shoulders.

"You'll need clothing for the occasion…" Kageyama mused, easily ignoring Shouyou's squirming.

"I have clothes!" Shouyou protested over his shoulder.

"These will be special," Kageyama had said, patting his rear end decisively. "You'll see."

And so they had come to the evening of the party. And Shouyou had discovered that, as always, Kageyama had been exceptionally truthful when he'd spoken of special clothing.

Earlier in the night, Shouyou had been bathed—this time by three servants in total. For a half hour he had lounged in the warm water as they gently rubbed his skin with fragrant, exotic salts until it was smooth and soft, massaged him from his neck and shoulders down to his toes with aromatic oils until every inch of him gleamed like he'd been sent down to earth from the mountain of the gods.

They dressed him fittingly; naked from the waist up with a sheer cloth belted around his hips, legs bare and exposed, thighs rosy from the scrubbing, supple and shining in the firelight. The rest of him they covered in gold and gems. The gold armbands he always wore were joined by rings and jewels and bangles that weighted his limbs, stacked nearly to his elbows and clinking pleasantly whenever he moved. The golden circlet high on his thigh tickled him with its thin, metal tassels, brushing cool against his skin.

Then there were the pearls. Though they shined less brightly than the sharp, sparkling edges of colorful rubies, sapphires, amethysts and emeralds, or the dazzling gleam of an enormous, perfectly cut diamond, it was these gems that Shouyou loved best. Unlike the rest, pearls were made by living creatures, Kageyama had told him, which was wondrous enough as it was—but the jewels were small and round and held the luster of not one color but many, when Shouyou held them up to the light.

And, he'd learned, they felt best on his skin when Kageyama warmed a string of them in his palms and coated them with oil, rolled them over the insides of Shouyou's thighs and massaged them against the base of his cock, before pressing them slowly, one at a time, inside of him, until Shouyou was shuddering in the sheets and begging for more.

Tonight, the servants looped a long string of perfect, round pearls around his waist, and Shouyou ran his fingers over them lightly, feeling his body flush with heat just at touching them. That was what Kageyama would have wanted, he knew, likely the entire reason he'd sent them for Shouyou to wear, and the thought made Shouyou bite his lip and smile. _Bastard._

The very last piece of jewelry was placed carefully on Shouyou's head, the finishing touch—a solid gold circlet, fashioned and shaped into an intricate knot that settled just above Shouyou's brow, golden tassels brushing his forehead.

He put his hands against it, tracing slowly over the shapes with his fingers. Leading up to the day, he had felt his nerves threatening to overtake him, at the implications of attending the party with Kageyama, at the knowledge that he would be so wholly on display to the other guests, like an untrained gladiator thrown into an arena of lions. But standing there in all his new finery, clothed in gold and jewels, knowing it had been Kageyama to call for it, to ensure Shouyou's importance to him personally was made well-known…

Shouyou took a deep breath, and released it.

"I'm ready," he said to the servants attending him.

Though the entire villa was alive with the party, the most esteemed guests were all gathered in the grand hall near the gardens, where Shouyou had first laid eyes upon Kageyama. Tonight, however, the mood was markedly different. Instead of dim, the hall fires had been stoked to blazing, and the atmosphere was loud and celebratory. A group of musicians serenaded the room with music for dancing, and the guests were all among the highest of the upper echelons of the patronage—patricians, senators, high-ranking legionnaires, the wealthiest businessmen, all in attendance.

But just as on that first night, Kageyama sat in the center of the room on his dais, looking removed from it all. He was dressed unlike Shouyou had ever seen him—in a full carmine-red toga, the color of it deep and saturated and rich, like looking through a crystal goblet of red wine. The folds of the fabric looked heavy and thick, with intricate pleats across the chest and shoulders.

Even without armor, Kageyama looked like a warrior. Powerful and proud, and drenched in crimson. All eyes were on him just as they would be in battle; he commanded all attention, but he himself was untouchable.

But when Shouyou stepped into the room, the attention shifted. He could feel the gazes on him, feel the weight of all the stares. For a moment, he stood at the doorway, unsure of where to go. 

But Kageyama's attention was on him now, as well; and that was a light along the path. Kageyama’s gaze stayed fixed on Shouyou, unwavering, as Shouyou left the safety of the entryway, and approached the dais to bow before the steps.

"Shouyou," Kageyama said, low enough that only Shouyou could hear him over the music and noise, "let me see your face."

Shouyou raised his eyes again, to see Kageyama already reaching for him. But instead of firm fingers on his chin, the other man leaned farther, to take Shouyou's hand and pull him to stand upright. He raised Shouyou's hand to his lips, and kissed his palm softly.

"Oh…" Shouyou breathed, eyes fluttering closed briefly. He hadn't been expecting this from Kageyama—not such an open display of devotion in front of so many people. " _Dominus?"_

Kageyama looked up at him from beneath his dark lashes to murmur against his palm, "Sit with me."

Shouyou nodded, and Kageyama held his hand as he ascended the steps, settling onto the lounge at the centurion's side. The party guests seemed to have resumed their mingling, through every which way Shouyou looked, he noticed glances cast in their direction every so often.

For his part, he couldn't take his eyes off Kageyama, though he tried to disguise his gawking in his perusals of the endless parade of food and drink and lavishly dressed guests as they came to converse with Kageyama. He was less subtle than he had hoped.

"You're staring at me."

Shouyou blinked. Kageyama had glanced sidelong at him for a moment before looking away again, but a small smirk still showed on his face. He had caught Shouyou out, noticed his wide-eyed expression. Embarrassed, Shouyou shook his head rapidly.

"I'm not!" he said. "I was just—you have food on your face, you look stupid—"

"I do not," Kageyama said, with an infuriating amount of self-assurance. "You can't take your eyes off me."

Defeated, Shouyou spun away from him. He glared at the wall for a moment, before mumbling, "You look nice."

"What?" Kageyama asked. "Sorry, my party is too loud, I can't hear you—"

He made a noise of surprise when Shouyou turned back, pulling on the front of Kageyama's lavishly expensive toga like it was unrefined linen, catching Kageyama off guard to pull him down to Shouyou's height.

"You look good in these," he murmured in Kageyama's ear, "but I'd rather you take them off for me."

He pulled back to see the way Kageyama's eyes flashed, both from sudden arousal and the knowledge that he was being challenged. But before he could say anything, someone had hailed him, and Shouyou let go of him hurriedly as they both stood up, remembering their surroundings. Kageyama, on the other hand, took longer to lean away from him, and even longer to stop looking at him with his intense gaze.

It was a senator who had interrupted them, and Kageyama managed to look as bored and as irritable as Shouyou had ever seen him while they conversed. He made no attempts to keep his focus on the other man, but instead let his eyes and attention wander back to Shouyou frequently, trained obviously on Shouyou's face and hips and bare legs. And Shouyou could almost see what his thoughts were, could almost feel his lingering touch in the length of his gaze, imagine Kageyama's mouth on every place his eyes fell.

He was so absorbed in the intensity of Kageyama's stare that he only realized he was being addressed when Kageyama's mouth quirked up into a sly grin. Shouyou blinked, and caught the end of a question.

"...properly entertaining Tobio?"

Belatedly, Shouyou turned, to see the senator who'd come to talk to Kageyama had somehow taken an interest in him, now. He gaped at the man, wondering how to say that he hadn't heard what had been asked of him.

The senator looked at Kageyama. "Is he a bit slow?"

"Yes," Kageyama replied, his grin widening, and Shouyou fought the urge to shout at him, as he would have done if they were alone. "Shouyou, he asked if you are entertaining me properly. Are you?"

Shouyou leveled him with an impassive stare and then, suddenly, returned Kageyama's smirk. Kageyama raised an eyebrow.

"I hope so," Shouyou said brightly. "Just the other day I beat him in a foot race. Didn't I, _dominus?"_ He regretted his cheek instantly, as Kageyama shot out a hand to grip the top of his head, squeezing tightly.

"At what point," Kageyama asked menacingly, "do you think anything you did qualified as winning?"

"Ow, ow, _ow,_ my headpiece—"

Kageyama's senator friend chuckled. "He's as spirited as you, Tobio. It may take awhile for you to tire of him, I imagine."

Shouyou stilled, his fingers going slack where they held onto Kageyama's arm. Here, tossed out flippantly right in front of him, was the question Shouyou had always had at the back of his mind, the one that had surfaced right from his first visit. It had never truly quieted.

It hurt more, to see that the man meant nothing by his words. He smiled congenially at Kageyama and Shouyou, clearly not intending any harm. For a man of the senator's stature, to suggest a man as important as Kageyama had an interest in Shouyou that was anything more than fleeting, wasn't rude—it was accurate. Shouyou knew this, too. That didn't stop his happiness from evaporating, leaving him feeling cold and empty.

Kageyama, who had been glaring down at Shouyou fiercely, finally looked away to glance at the senator. Shouyou cast his gaze at the floor, not wanting to hear his answer.

"Why would I tire of one who means so much to me?"

Shouyou blinked at the floor. He didn't look up.

There was a pronounced silence, loud in its awkwardness, before the senator replied. "This… common plebeian?" he ventured, cautiously. "Means much to _you_ , Tobio?"

"He's not common," Kageyama replied, seeming to bristle, now.

"Then what—pardon my confusion, but _what_ is he?"

Shouyou didn't wait to hear more—he couldn't. Without looking at the senator or Kageyama or anyone else, he ran, bolting down the steps of the dais and straight from the room, bursting from the doors into the garden beyond. Outside, it was cool, and he gasped, realizing he'd barely been breathing; when he'd stopped, he didn't know.

A hand closed around his arm and he jumped, startled, spinning around unsteadily. And there, having chased after him, was Kageyama, glowering at him fiercely, red robes billowing around him.

"What's gotten into you?" he demanded.

"Me?" Shouyou asked. _"Me—_ what's gotten into _you?"_

Kageyama's scowl deepened. "What are you talking about? Why did you just run away like—"

"I thought you were going to say I was a gift from the gods, again," Shouyou blurted out. When Kageyama stared at him without further reply, he went on. "That's what you were going to tell him, wasn't it? About why you won't… why I mean something?"

"I wasn't going to say that." Kageyama shook his head. "I didn't want to appear boastful."

Shouyou shot him a bland look. "That's unusual…"

"Is that why you ran?" Kageyama asked.

"Yes—I mean, you realize most people are going to think you're stupid, if you tell them that, don't you?" Shouyou asked. "It's embarrassing!"

Embarrassing, and… disappointing. Shouyou knew he must consider himself lucky, that Kageyama still found him so bafflingly worthwhile, but he wished it could be for reasons that weren't so out of his hands—and entirely incorrect, on top of that. But Kageyama had never once been swayed on the topic.

"It's not embarrassing if it's true," Kageyama said, as if to prove Shouyou's expectations of him correct. _"And_ , that's not why you're important." He cuffed Shouyou lightly on the top of his head. "Obviously."

This was an even stranger response than Shouyou had expected. "It's not?" he asked. "Why, then?"

Kageyama looked impatiently confused. "Because you're you."

Shouyou stared at him. "What?"

"I wasn't going to say anything else because I didn't need to,” Kageyama shook his head. “You are important. Common or heaven sent, it doesn't matter what you are, really."

He said this all like it made perfect sense, and perhaps, in his mind, it did. Perhaps to Kageyama, who'd been right all his life simply by virtue of being born, this was just one more thing he didn't need to question. But Shouyou had never had that luxury.

For once, the gardens were empty, abandoned for the festivities inside. They were alone amidst the flowers and the fountains, and Shouyou didn't need to pull away, this time, when he tangled his hands into the front of Kageyama's clothes to get nearer to him. Kageyama didn't hesitate, pulling him closer, and when Shouyou turned his face upward he was rewarded with fleeting, warm kisses on his forehead and cheeks.

"It doesn't matter?" he asked.

"It's never mattered," Kageyama said. "Have you thought—this whole time—"

"I just didn't think…" Shouyou whispered, "I didn't…"

Kageyama lifted him clear of the ground, so he no longer had to bend to kiss Shouyou, a little too rough and all the better for it. "You're an idiot," he said forcefully, before their lips met once more.

"Can we—go?" Shouyou asked, in between his desperate attempts to kiss Kageyama and breathe at the same time. "I want—right now—"

Kageyama huffed a laugh against his cheek. "Not yet."

Shouyou looked at him with wide, wounded eyes. He was so unused to Kageyama denying him anything that this came as something of a shock. Kageyama kissed his forehead in apology.

"This campaign will be important, and people have expectations of me," Kageyama explained. "I can't leave the party until it's finished. But… I will make the wait worth your while." His voice dropped low, as he brushed the tip of his nose softly, somewhat apologetically, against Shouyou's neck.

After this, the party felt interminably long. Some of Shouyou's impatience was kept at bay by being able to watch Kageyama, with the new knowledge of all he meant to the other man.

 _Mine,_ he thought, watching Kageyama's long fingers wrap around his goblet as he raised it to his lips to drink.

 _Mine,_ he thought, as Kageyama's dark eyes roved over the faces of the many, many people who scurried near to talk to him, wanting to curry his favor.

 _Mine,_ he thought, of the way Kageyama towered over most other men, robes the only flash of red in the room, like the blood that coursed through him and fed the heart Shouyou could now also call his own.

All his.

As the night wore on and more and more faces blurred by, Shouyou grew more and more exhausted. Perhaps sensing this, Kageyama eventually had him lie down on the lounge—he himself did not appear tired at all, and continued to engage with his guests as Shouyou tried and failed to keep his eyes open. He let his eyes fall closed as he drifted off, Kageyama the last thing he saw.

It was Kageyama who roused him, when finally the guests had departed for home or been shown to rooms at the villa, and the hall had emptied.

"Are you finally done?" Shouyou asked, blinking up at Kageyama blearily.

"Everyone has gone," Kageyama informed him. He slipped his arms under Shouyou and lifted him, as he so often and easily did. "You slept through the entire party."

"Not the _whole_ party," Shouyou said. "And you told me to lie down!"

"You kept yawning in people's faces."

"I only did that once, and he didn't notice, he was too busy trying to get your attention."

"You're still rude and small. Like a satyr." Kageyama snorted in satisfaction when Shouyou scowled sleepily at the insult. "I think you need bed, now."

"Maybe," Shouyou murmured, "but only if you stay with me."

Kageyama's steps faltered. The only thing he hadn't given Shouyou—the one thing it seemed he couldn't bring himself to do—was stay with Shouyou until the morning. Every night he retired to his own rooms instead of sleeping in the same bed.

"Shouyou…"

"After what you told me, still, you won't?" Shouyou asked.

Kageyama stared down at him, his eyes dark and unreadable. "I shouldn't. I want to—"

"Tobio," Shouyou said, and Kageyama stopped speaking, stopped moving, entirely. Shouyou had never called him anything other than his title before, he hadn't dared. But now, he didn't want to hear about what Kageyama shouldn't do, didn't want to think about weeks of not seeing each other. He only wanted one thing. "Tobio, stay with me."

Kageyama took in a great breath of air, suddenly—like he'd been holding it, for a long, long time. Then he shook his head. "No… no, tonight, you stay with me."

Stunned, Shouyou asked him, "Really?"

Kageyama nodded, head bent low as he told Shouyou, "I want you in my bed."

Shouyou had long wondered what Kageyama's room must be like. If the summer room was so beautiful, he couldn't imagine the kind of grandiose luxury Kageyama must sleep in every night. As emotionally charged as the occasion was, he couldn't deny being undoubtedly curious.

The corridor that led to Kageyama's quarters was lit by torches, and the doors, once reached, were massive. They were opened by the guards posted outside, and Shouyou peered into the room. More torches lit the space past the doors, and he rubbed his eyes, as he saw it for the first time.

The room was sparse and on the smaller side. Aside from the bed, which was large and elegantly carved, and covered over with expensive fabric, there was nothing special about it. It was so simple, in fact, that for a moment, Shouyou doubted.

"This is your room?" he asked. "You always sleep here?"

"I do," Kageyama confirmed. "If it isn't to your liking, I can stay with you in yours."

"No, I just…" Shouyou smiled up at him. "It's not what I was expecting. But that’s alright." Some things, he had found, he loved better that way.

Kageyama blinked down at him. "I'm glad."

 _"Dominus,_ " Shouyou said pointedly, "I waited all evening."

"Then, as promised," Kageyama said, as he carried Shouyou to the bed, "I'll make it up to you."

He laid Shouyou carefully down on the dark sheets. They were just as soft and silken to the touch as the expensive fabrics in Shouyou's room, and Shouyou melted back against them, watching Kageyama undress, eyes free now to trace every line of his naked body. He smiled, as Kageyama climbed over him and leaned low, so he could kiss Shouyou, everywhere.

"Is _this_ how you're planning on making it up to me?" Shouyou asked, a smile spreading over his face. He ran a hand through Kageyama's hair as the centurion moved lower, to kiss his collarbone, then his chest. "By… teasing? _Mmm…"_

He sighed and tipped his head back, as Kageyama flicked his tongue over one of Shouyou's nipples, touch barely there.  

"If I don't tease," Kageyama said, breath ghosting over Shouyou's skin, "this will go too quickly."

"Everything… _ah_ —everything always goes too quickly when I'm with you," Shouyou replied. "The days and the weeks I get to see you… it's always too fast." He gasped, arching his back as Kageyama bit down lightly, worrying the peak of Shouyou's nipple between his teeth, before sucking, mouth wet and hot. Shouyou clutched at the pillow beneath him, the sheets near his head.

But soon, Kageyama relented, and Shouyou opened his eyes slowly as he found a chance to catch his breath. He saw that Kageyama had sat back to simply look at him.

"What…" Shouyou asked, a little self-conscious, and very pleased. Kageyama's expression was soft, but his eyes were focused and attentive as he took in all of Shouyou, gaze dragging over his languid body.

"I will have… a hard time of holding back tonight," Kageyama said, swallowing visibly. "You look…" He leaned forward, to brush his fingers over the golden headpiece Shouyou wore, tracing the knot in its center.

Shouyou took his hand, threading their fingers together. "Tobio…" Kageyama's eyes fluttered closed. He shivered, and Shouyou sat up, taking Kageyama's face in his hands. "Tobio. Is it really okay for me to call you that?"

Kageyama opened his eyes. "I don't want you to call me anything else from now on. Only my name."

Shouyou bit his lip, smiling, then leaned in to kiss him. "Okay. Tobio." Kageyama whined, helpless—he was never helpless, he was never weak, except now, for Shouyou. "Tobio, lie down."

Kageyama obeyed him, stretching out in the bed on his back so Shouyou could climb on top of him.

"Do you want me like this?" Kageyama asked.

Shouyou remembered back, suddenly, to the first days he had ever spent with Kageyama. How he had seemed to be a man who never asked questions, never doubted himself, commanded the world at his fingertips. Truthfully, all of those things were still true, in a sense.

But Kageyama would ask endless questions if it meant it would help him understand what Shouyou wanted. He had doubted, at first, that he was worthy enough for Shouyou to want to stay with him. And though he stood on top of the world, he would gladly have put it on his shoulders, if it would make Shouyou happy.

Shouyou shook his head. "I want you always."

It was like a slow, heated wave rolling over him, letting Kageyama open him in that position. Shouyou could keep his hands braced firmly against Kageyama's shoulders like that, rolling his hips to match the steady press of Kageyama's fingers thrusting inside him, as Kageyama rubbed a hand over his leg, his side. His eyes never left Shouyou, stayed fixed on his face as Shouyou shuddered and moaned over him, cock dripping from beneath his long skirt onto Kageyama's stomach.

"T… _Tobio_ …"

"Can I have you?" Kageyama asked instantly. "Are you—"

"Yes," Shouyou moaned, "I am, I need you—"

He let Kageyama pull him back and sat up fully, so he could lower his hips, little by little, to take Kageyama's cock. Kageyama held still as he adjusted, fingers still trailing in small, soothing lines over Shouyou's skin.

"You—don't have to… you d-don't have to hold back," Shouyou panted. He felt heavy; with the jewelry, the weight of Kageyama inside him, the happiness in his heart.

Kageyama nodded. "Neither do you."

Shouyou blinked down at him, and then grinned. "I'd never hold back on you."

He rolled his hips, rode Kageyama as steadily and hard as he knew how, so hard it made the gold on his arms clink and jangle as he moved, made the breath snap from his lungs every time he let his hips drop.

And Kageyama watched him, with something so close to reverence it made Shouyou’s heart ache. He gripped Shouyou’s his hips so hard there would surely be marks, and Shouyou pressed his hands on top of Kageyama's to keep him right where he was.

"I want to stay," he gasped, and Kageyama's eyes went wide, big enough that the glow of the torches could dance in them. "I want to st-stay with you."

 _"Ah_ —you—" Kageyama pushed himself upright, to be closer to Shouyou, and Shouyou flung his arms around his neck.

"I'm not—I won't leave you again—" He felt Kageyama tense beneath him, heard the stutter of his breathing. "Tobio, Tobio—it's okay, you don't have to hold back, remember—"

Kageyama let out a low cry and cupped Shouyou's face in his hands, pressing their lips together as he spilled inside of Shouyou. The rhythmic rocking of his hips slowed, and Shouyou whined softly, needing more.

Kageyama lifted the diadem off his forehead, reverently, to set it aside. He kissed Shouyou's forehead now that it was bare.

"I have proven myself to you," he whispered.

And Shouyou knew he truly was done holding back. Done with the days going by in a flash while the weeks in between dragged on. Done having to say goodbye every month. Done with Kageyama still thinking he had to prove himself, when he had already done that, so many times over.

He was quiet when he came, save for the soft gasps that escaped him, and Kageyama kissed him over and over until he had stopped shaking, and could finally slump against Kageyama's chest, thoroughly exhausted and satisfied.

"Shouyou…"

"I'm going to stay," Shouyou mumbled into Kageyama's chest. "Tomorrow…"

 _"Shouyou_ —"

Shouyou lifted his head and grabbed Kageyama's face in his hands, grinning despite his tiredness. "I'm not leaving tomorrow!" He kissed Kageyama gleefully without warning and then pulled back to beam at him.

But Kageyama wasn't smiling.

Shouyou frowned. "What?"

Kageyama was staring at him intensely. Slowly, he lifted a hand to cup Shouyou's cheek, stroking over it with his thumb. _"I'm_ leaving the day after tomorrow. Have you forgotten?"

Shouyou tilted his head. "On your campaign?"

"Yes," Kageyama said.

"But then you'll be back."

"I…" Kageyama swallowed. "Yes. But it won't just be a short time away."

Shouyou's heart sank. "Oh…" He had known it wouldn't be quick, but neither was the time they spent apart from each other. The way Kageyama had said it, though… "How long? Two months? Three?"

Kageyama looked strange—pained, Shouyou thought. Wounded. He pulled Shouyou closer to tuck his smaller frame up, curled against Kageyama's chest. His voice was the softest when he spoke again.

"These can last _years,_ Shouyou."

For a long time, Shouyou didn't speak, as he attempted to process Kageyama's words.

"Years," he whispered. "It can’t be years. You can't—you can't be away from me for years, you—"

"I have no _choice,"_  Kageyama said. "This is my duty." 

Shouyou shook his head. "How many years?"

"I don't know," Kageyama said.

_"How many?"_

"I don't _know_ —"

"How can you not know?!" Shouyou asked, voice rising. He pushed against Kageyama in a fit of anger and Kageyama let him pull away. "How can you not know, now that _I do?_ Now that I've _told you_ —"

"Because you can't always have everything you want!" Kageyama said. "This is the one thing I can't—"

"You promised," Shouyou said. "You _told me_ you would stay."

"I…" Kageyama blinked, and Shouyou noticed, with a horrible jolt, that his eyes were wet. "I did. I failed you."

"You—you don't get to say that!" Shouyou choked. "You don't get to make me feel this way and then _leave._ You can't give up and tell me you _failed,_ you can't just give up like that, you _can't_ —"

Kageyama hugged him again, and this time Shouyou clung to him, angry tears running down his cheeks. Kageyama didn't say anything, just let him sob furiously until he couldn't any longer, and his anger had given way to hopelessness.

"Don't leave me," Shouyou whispered.

"I'll come back to you," Kageyama said. This time, he didn't let Shouyou tear away from him in his rage, holding onto him tightly; and Shouyou was too exhausted, too tired to fight him. Too scared to pull away, now that he didn’t know when the next time would be, when he could hold Kageyama like this. "I _promise,_ Shouyou. I will. Please wait for me."

It was the first time Shouyou had ever heard him say please. He wiped his eyes with a shaky hand.

"I'll wait," he said. "Because you waited for me. I'll wait even longer than that, I'll wait twice as long… ten times as long. But you better not forget you promised."

Kageyama leaned closer hesitantly, and Shouyou could sense some of the tension leave Kageyama, when he allowed Kageyama to kiss him.

"I swear it," the centurion vowed, and Shouyou didn't argue, didn't question further. He had to believe this was one more thing Kageyama could give him, one more thing in his power.

He didn't want to think about what it would mean, for Kageyama to break this promise.

*

The next day, Shouyou returned to the temple.

There was no use in staying at the villa—not when Kageyama would be gone, and no one left there to fill the awful hole that seemed to have opened in Shouyou's heart.

It was different, than all the times they'd said goodbye before it. Different even than the first time, when Shouyou had thought he wouldn't be returning month after month, to tumble from the carriage doors and run straight to where Kageyama waited, always, for him.

It was worse now, having made up his mind to stay, but having no idea when Kageyama could return to him. So Shouyou came back to the temple, to wait. At least there, he had the people he'd grown up with. He had his duties. He could try, as best he could, to be distracted.

And, as little as it was, he was not wholly without news of his centurion. For Kageyama sent him letters, as often as he was able.

The first letter came in place of the carriage that would have usually arrived to bring Shouyou to the temple. It was delivered by messenger, and Shouyou was so eager to open the wax seal with Kageyama's insignia that he nearly ripped the paper in two. He snuck away to a secluded corner where he could read undisturbed.

 

> _My Dearest Shouyou,_
> 
> _One of my men said I should start my letter that way. I asked him why and he said it would make you feel special. I confess I don't understand. I already know you must feel special, because I swore I would do everything in my power to make it apparent to you that you are. I am certain that I have accomplished that goal._
> 
> _Currently the campaign has taken us through a region that I shall make famous for its fig trees upon my return. Even as I eat them, I am upset that it has not come to light before now. I wonder how such a thing can have been kept from me? Several of the farmers have told me that they did not have the resources to come to the capital, but I shall correct that._
> 
> _I recall figs are a fruit you are very fond of. I imagine you are probably quite jealous as you read this letter, and I would have you know that I have just eaten another of the fruits as I write this very sentence. It is delicious and you should envy me greatly._
> 
> _But when I return I will ensure that you have your fill of them, just as I will have my fill of you, once again._
> 
> _Be well, my dearest one._
> 
> _-Tobio_
> 
> _(Did that make you feel special, what I did at the end there? I still think it's stupid.)_

 

Shouyou beamed at the paper, cheeks flooded with warmth. He couldn't for the life of him imagine such saccharine endearments ever coming from Kageyama's mouth, much less being directed at him. It made his heart ache even more, to picture the other man, surely skeptical even as he dutifully wrote the words on the off chance that Shouyou would be pleased by them. In the middle of all he must have to worry about, his thoughts still went to Shouyou.

It was quite some time before Shouyou remembered the messenger waiting for him to write back, to pen his own response to bring to Kageyama. He scratched it out hunched over a scrap torn from an old manuscript, hoping no one would notice or question the missing page. They did not have writing supplies as readily available at the temple to waste on love letters; so Shouyou did not write love letters.

Like Kageyama, he simply wrote his heart onto the page, and trusted it would be enough.

_"I do feel special. Idiot Tobio."_

And Kageyama must have sensed his happiness. It seemed with time that it became more natural for Kageyama, to pen such sweet things for Shouyou's sake. Perhaps it was the distance, or the time spent apart. But, more likely, it was because Kageyama had always been honest about how he felt, even if his ways of expressing it were a little harder to decipher than most.

But even with Kageyama's fondness on open display, or perhaps because of it, the wait in between letters began to be painful, bordering on fearful, as news of the campaign began to trickle back into the cities far from where the fighting was taking place.

And time, as Kageyama had said it would, began to engulf Shouyou.

It became harder to keep his cheerful exterior intact when Kageyama seemed to get further from him with every passing day. Six months went by, and then another three, and soon it had been a full year since Shouyou had last seen Kageyama, or touched him, or been held in his arms. And his smile faded.

It was strange, to hear so much about Kageyama from other sources, people who talked of the centurion as though they knew him well, though they couldn't possibly know him better than Shouyou. They said he waged war and won his battles handily; and it was of his conquests Shouyou learned, the defenses he had set against the enemies of the empire, how he drove them farther and farther from its most contested borders. He was a symbol of hope, the people’s hero.

Shouyou had known him for so long as just a man. He knew better than anyone that Kageyama was only flesh and blood, for he had felt it under his hands, the steady beating of that heart. He did not want to hear more tales of glory; he just wanted to know when the fighting would end.

The letters kept on.

 

> _My Most Beloved Shouyou,_
> 
> _Another suggestion, this time from a fellow general._
> 
> _I will be interested to see if you have a greater capacity to listen to me if I address you like this from now on. I suspect the answer is no. You would be a terrible legionnaire, have I ever told you that? I considered the prospect this morning over my meal and the thought brought me so much amusement that the men believed I had become unhinged. I had to reassure them that I was only contemplating your assured failure, and that I would warn them the next time I thought I might be about to smile._
> 
> _I do think about that a lot. Your smile, I mean, not your worthlessness as a foot soldier. I think about your smile every day. I find this odd, as I have never much cared for smiling, myself. I believe this changed when I met you._
> 
> _I remember, often, your second visit to the villa. The morning after we did not take any rest, because you wanted to run through every fountain on my property. I remember how you looked at me, when you realized the sun was about to rise. I had never seen anything as bright as that, before._
> 
> _I would very much like to see your smile again, soon._
> 
> _Wait for me, my beloved._
> 
> _-Tobio_
> 
> _(General Oikawa would not permit me to seal this letter until I added that last line. I don't know what I did to deserve working alongside his legion.)_

 

Shouyou had to wait for quite some time before writing out his response, or else risk the telltale marks of his tears falling onto the page as he wrote. And Kageyama would know. He would know how hard it had become for Shouyou to smile, and Shouyou couldn't bear the thought of Kageyama carrying that burden along with all the rest he must be enduring.

Once his eyes had dried, he wrote out his response, carefully, slowly, so his shaky fingers wouldn't be apparent on the page.

_"And I want to see your frown, Angry-yama. You've kept me waiting long enough."_

But Kageyama had been truthful when he'd said this was one instance in which he could not give in to Shouyou's whims. Thought it had been long enough, Shouyou would have to wait even longer.

Another half year passed, with word of the campaign growing scarce. Sometimes Shouyou waited a month, two months, before Kageyama's next letter came. And in each one, it now seemed, Shouyou could sense Kageyama's growing weariness.

 

> _My Idiot Treasure,_
> 
> _This one I came up with entirely on my own. I am certain it is the best of the lot, no matter what the men say. It is honest, for you are the greatest gift I have ever received, but also, you are very stupid. I will hold to my convictions, as all good leaders must._
> 
> _I tell myself this every day now. As soon as I wake up, I remind myself, because I dream of you every night. Some mornings at the villa, in the weeks between seeing you, I would sleep so much later than I should, so I could be with you for a little while longer. But I can't do that now. I'm not waiting for you to come to me. You are waiting for me to return. So I wake, and I fight, when I want nothing more than to go back to sleep._
> 
> _I remind myself of all those under my command who look to me to bring them home safely. They dream of returning to the ones they love soon, too. They trust that I won't fail them. I wonder if it is enough? That all their faith is placed in someone who finds it harder to care about the country, or the war, by the day. I find that, more and more, it is only you that I care about._
> 
> _But I think, more than anything else, you are the memory that will bring_ _me_ _home._
> 
> _I miss you, stupid._
> 
> _-Tobio_
> 
> _(Really miss you.)_

 

This letter Shouyou would read, and re-read, until he had memorized the words, and they played in his mind at all hours of the day, and before he went to sleep at night, and surely in his dreams.

Kageyama had said he loved him.

It was hard to tell if the other man had said the words purposefully, or without thinking. But perhaps it didn't matter either way, because Kageyama did both. It was just in his simple nature, to say what he meant at a moment's notice, without thinking of how it might affect others. Without thinking of how Shouyou may feel, at reading those words, while Kageyama was so far away and untouchable. So instead of veiling his reply, he was honest.

_"Tobio, I don't want to be a memory anymore. Come home."_

But after that, the letters stopped.

At first it seemed like just another long lull. The months came and went, and no messenger arrived at the temple for Shouyou. Soon, he was rushing to greet every page, spy on every new visitor to the temple, in the hope that they might come bearing some news. But there was none.

And now desperation began to set in.

It had been two years since Kageyama had left. And though each letter the centurion sent had squeezed ever tighter around Shouyou's heart, it was the sudden silence that truly made Shouyou feel the emptiness there begin to grow.

The nights passed without sleep. During the daytime, exhausted as he was, he forced himself through his tasks at the temple, managed to keep something like a smile on his face for visitors. Kept smiling, because Kageyama would return, he had _promised_ Shouyou—and when he did, it would be Shouyou's smile that he saw, the one he had been missing. Even when inside, he began to feel colder, colder, he smiled.

A few weeks after the two year mark had passed, the news finally reached the city: the campaign had been won. The legions sent off to fight would return home.

But there was no news of Kageyama.

And Shouyou's smile faltered. For without Kageyama to send for him, how would anyone know to bring word to the most common of citizens? For he was only a lowly, unimportant temple boy who had by some unbelievable chance caught the attention of one of the mightiest of soldiers. Without Kageyama to care, who would?

But Kageyama had sworn to him, and he had never let Shouyou down before. He had always kept his word.

When he was called upon to serve during a temple service for those soldiers who had fallen in battle, Shouyou numbly did his duty. But even as those moments had seemed to be as hopeless as any he'd ever experienced, suddenly, he saw it.

Amidst the crowd that had come to pay their respects, and mourn for those lost, there was a figure. Whoever it was wore a dark, hooded cloak, their face all in shadow. As Shouyou felt a sharp and sudden dread, the figure's head turned, suddenly, and appeared to look directly at him.

Terrified, Shouyou stumbled, and his hand slipped over the candles he was lighting for the service. He hissed in pain at the throbbing burn, clutching his hand to his chest. One of the priests noticed, and turned to him, concerned, but Shouyou waved him off.

He excused himself and hurried out of the service, to a more secluded area of the temple. There were no people here and he suddenly found himself gasping for air, as though he had been underwater, and only now was surfacing.

It was too much. Everything was too much; the service, the pain in his hand, the entirety of the past two years. The figure in the crowd, that Shouyou was certain was looking for him, that he _knew_ must have come to finally bring him news.

After everything, Kageyama… Kageyama…

A hand came down on his shoulder, and he jumped and spun, already swiping at his blurry eyes, not wanting to speak to anyone. But he froze, when he saw who it was.

The figure dressed in black.

They loomed over him, their face still obscured by the hood, and Shouyou shook his head as his tears spilled over again. He didn't want to hear it. He didn't want to know; he couldn't bear it.

"Don't—" he choked, flinching away as the figure raised a hand.

They froze. And then a voice asked, quiet and unsure,

"Am I too late?"

And Shouyou's heart stopped in that moment. He stared, unmoving, as the figure reached up to push their hood back instead of touch him—he couldn't breathe again, but this time, the tightness in his chest wasn't due to despair. It was a hope so fragile he was afraid it would shatter, if he so much as took a breath.

Blue eyes met his, searching, sorrowful—whether over the pain that could not have been prevented, or the fear of being left behind, Shouyou couldn't say.

But he had never given up, not even though it hurt him.

"No," Shouyou whispered, and Kageyama seemed to find what he was looking for, as they drank in the sight of one another.

"I'm sorry it took me so long," he said, with a break in his voice Shouyou had never heard there before.

Shouyou shook his head, and despite the tears, found he could smile.

"It's alright," he said, "I've been waiting."

Kageyama reached for him again and this time, Shouyou didn't shy away. He closed his eyes.

It was quiet, where he'd run to, an alcove separate from the main hall. He could hear the faint, hushed sounds of singing and bells, the murmur of voices, from the service he'd left. The alcove was shadowed and cool.

Kageyama's fingers skimmed soft over his cheek. Shouyou kept his eyes closed, breathed out a sigh, and allowed himself to feel. Callouses on the pads that rubbed just a little rougher against his cheekbone than he remembered… the warmth of his palm, dry and firm, when Kageyama cupped his cheek… and…

"You're shaking," Shouyou whispered. "Your hands."

He heard Kageyama huff a laugh, but his voice, too, was unsteady. "There is something I have to tell you."

"What—"

"I had to stop sending the letters," Kageyama said. "Where I was stationed, the fighting was—I couldn't risk any civilian lives, not even to bring you news. But it wasn't because I don't—it was never because—"

Shouyou opened his eyes. Kageyama looked distraught, like he was struggling to breathe, to make himself understood; so uncharacteristic of the way he had always just said what he meant before. And Shouyou realized what it must have cost him, how he must have known the anxiety and pain it would cause Shouyou. How he must have feared Shouyou wouldn't be able to forgive him.

"I know," he said, and Kageyama's expression crumpled. Shouyou abandoned their careful reintroduction, standing on the tips of his toes to wrap his arms around Kageyama, sift reassuring fingers through his hair. And in response, Kageyama swept him up, crushing Shouyou's body to his, hugging him almost painfully tight.

"It was so long," Kageyama said, voice muffled in Shouyou's neck. "And you were so angry with me before I left. I thought… I _thought—_ "

"I'm sorry," Shouyou said, "I'm so sorry, for blaming you." He hated that Kageyama had lived with that for two years, all of Shouyou's frustration and hurt bottled up inside him. He had never meant for that; but he had been scared, so terrified of never seeing Kageyama again.

"I never stopped thinking about you," Kageyama told him. "Every day, that's what I was fighting for. To come back to you." Shouyou unleashed a loud and fairly disgusting sniff directly in his ear, and Kageyama squeezed him again. "I'm back, Shouyou, I'm—" He finally couldn't manage anymore.

"You couldn't have sent a message _after_ all the fighting?" Shouyou asked, with a watery laugh. "You had to be so mysterious."

Kageyama looked sheepishly at him, cheeks red. "I thought it would be faster this way. They wanted me to return to the capital but I refused."

"You came for me, instead," Shouyou said.

"I startled you," Kageyama said. He trailed the tip of his nose against Shouyou's jaw, and Shouyou shivered at the gentleness of his touch. "And you… you hurt yourself. Again. Is it bad luck, for you to be near me?"

Whether or not he was asking in earnest, Shouyou couldn't tell. He exhaled shakily as Kageyama pressed his lips to his neck, his jaw, under his ear. "I don't care," he said. "I'm never letting you be away from me again, _dominus."_

"Mmm," Kageyama murmured distractedly, "I told you to—"

"Tobio," Shouyou breathed, knowing what he wanted, and at the sound of his name Kageyama quieted. Shouyou pressed his forehead to the centurion's, as Kageyama took his injured hand and raised it to his lips, kisses barely there upon Shouyou's knuckles and fingers and palm. "You came back. You promised, and you came back for me."

"Did you doubt me?" Kageyama asked, not a challenge, but an honest question. For even to be doubted would make him feel as though he'd failed, Shouyou knew.

"Not even when the letters stopped," Shouyou said, taking his face in both hands. "I was—I was scared, but I knew you wouldn't leave me, Tobio, I _knew_ you wouldn't."

Kageyama blinked at him, rapidly, and nodded. "Thank you."

"Don't thank me, idiot," Shouyou told him. "Just—"

He was cut off when Kageyama finally closed the long, long distance between them—and the two years, the waiting, the cold emptiness in Shouyou's chest, all were swept aside, as he melted into the familiar warmth of Kageyama's kiss.

And suddenly, he could taste all of Kageyama's desperation.

The centurion shifted to hold Shouyou more firmly, one arm supporting Shouyou's weight while the other cradled the back of his head, fingers splayed carefully, reverently. Shouyou cupped his face, brushing Kageyama's cheeks with his thumbs, and Kageyama gasped against his lips, a soft, broken sound.

He had never seemed so lost before, not like this—only ever sure in his ability to command, to pleasure, to give Shouyou all the things he wanted. The closest he had come to this was the night before he had left, but even that had been different. Then, Kageyama had still been shielding Shouyou.

Now it was as though he could scarcely comprehend what was happening. Like his unwavering strength had finally been shaken.

But, of the two of them, Kageyama was not the only one who was strong. Nor did he always have to be. Not when Shouyou could be there for him, until he'd regained his strength.

"You did everything you needed to do," he said against Kageyama's lips, and Kageyama drew in a ragged breath, hanging on his words. "And you're everything I need you to be."

"Am I?" Kageyama asked, nearly pleading, and Shouyou nodded.

"You proved yourself to me," Shouyou reminded him. "Now I just need you to be mine again, Tobio. Only mine." He could sense Kageyama's breathing slowing, calming. "Please." He pressed a hand to Kageyama's chest, feeling it rise and fall, feeling the beat of Kageyama's heart beneath his fingers.

"Then I'm here," Kageyama told him. "I'm here to take you home."

 _Home._ Back to the villa, where he would never have to leave again. Shouyou should just be happy with that.

But, Kageyama had once told him—he needed to know what he wanted, in order to be spoiled.

"Yes," Shouyou said, "but I want you, now."

Kageyama pulled back slightly, to look at him. "What?"

"I can't wait," Shouyou said. He had learned, knew now exactly how to look at Kageyama, eyes wide and lips parted, to get anything he wanted. Two years had not let him forget; and suddenly he needed, more than anything, to make Kageyama give in to him. Needed to remember what it was like, for Kageyama to fulfill his every wish, no matter how ridiculous.

"We'll be home in two days," Kageyama murmured, but Shouyou could hear the warmth beneath the exasperation, and realized that perhaps he was not the only one who needed to give in to a sudden whim.

"We've been waiting two years," Shouyou said. "Can you give me what I want, _dominus?_ Like you always have."

Kageyama ducked his head closer, and Shouyou trembled, as he felt teeth graze the sensitive skin below his ear, before closing over his earlobe. It had been so long since he'd been touched, so long since he'd _wanted_ to be touched like this.

 _"Dominus?"_ Kageyama repeated, readjusting his grip so he could pin Shouyou back against the wall of the alcove.

Shouyou smiled blissfully at him. "Tobi— _oh, ohhh—"_

He bit his lip to silence himself, letting his head fall back against the wall as Kageyama ran his hands up under the skirt of his toga. Shouyou wrapped his legs tighter around his waist so Kageyama was free to let his hands roam, sliding under his thighs and squeezing, pulling Shouyou's legs open wider, fitting their bodies closer together. He kissed Shouyou's exposed throat, closed his teeth over the skin, sucked and licked, until Shouyou was panting, one hand twisted into Kageyama's hair, the other pressed over his mouth, so as not to make a sound.

"Come here," Kageyama said, voice low and deep. Shouyou knew what that tone meant all too well, felt his cock throb against his stomach.

"Ah…" he whispered, as Kageyama loosened the folds of his own tunic, "there's no oil… we…"

"We don't need that," Kageyama told him. "Have you forgotten all the ways I can give you pleasure?"

Shouyou groaned softly. "N-no—but what about you—"

"I want to feel you, Shouyou," Kageyama said. "That's all I want."

He kissed Shouyou again, this time hard and insistent, so when Shouyou moaned into his mouth, Kageyama could slip his tongue past his lips, filling him there, at least. And then—he cried out softly, wanton and needy, as Kageyama pushed against him, uncovered, suddenly hot and hard against Shouyou's own aching cock.

He hadn't forgotten—he could never forget, how much Kageyama made him feel, how it didn't matter what they did, as long as it was together. But he hadn't anticipated how it would be, simply to _have_ Kageyama again, and the force of his need was like a sudden wildfire, burning and all-consuming.

It was a need not for the pleasures of sex, not the rush of desire, but to be close to this one person—above all else, to be near to Kageyama, to have everything familiar underneath his fingertips, to have everything he loved in the world returned to him.

He knew the way Kageyama smelled, just faintly of sweat and richly laundered cloth. The way he sounded, the way he breathed Shouyou's name, the way his breaths came sharp and heavy when he buried his face in Shouyou's hair. The way he moved, hips rocking steady and slow and forceful, skin sliding over skin, sticky and hot. Shouyou knew the way Kageyama touched him, and every brush of his hands, every press of his fingers, reminded Shouyou he was as revered as the gods looking down upon them.

And Shouyou knew that Kageyama had done everything in order for him to understand that it didn't matter whether he was a gift from the gods or an ordinary common boy. No matter where he had come from, Kageyama would love him, all the same.

"Tobio," Shouyou breathed, "m-more—"

He didn't know how much more he could take. But Kageyama obeyed him immediately, palming over their cockheads before taking them both in hand, letting Shouyou thrust up helplessly into his grip.

"Do you feel good?" he panted. "Tell me—anything you need from me—"

"There's n-nothing—" Shouyou said, barely able to speak, "I have e-everything, I have—"

But it was finally too much. He dug his fingers into Kageyama's shoulders, teeth clenched to stop his sobs from pouring from him, as he came, a great, white-hot rush seizing up his entire body. His stomach knotted and untwisted again, sensations so powerful his breath was stolen away.

"I have _you—_ " Shouyou gasped, "I— _ah,_ Tobio, you feel so good—I _needed_ you—"

"Shouyou—" Kageyama said, voice ragged, and then Shouyou felt him follow, felt him spill warm and wet over his hand, over them both, hips rolling unsteadily.

For a moment, neither of them moved. Shouyou clung, shivering, feeling numbly elated, and remarkably boneless. Kageyama leaned him back heavily against the wall, face pressed into Shouyou's neck. Shouyou smoothed a hand over his hair.

"Am I too heavy?" he asked.

"No," Kageyama responded, voice muffled.

"Tobio?"

"Mmm?"

"Did you miss me?"

Kageyama finally lifted his head to look at Shouyou. "Sometimes I worried I would never need to fight our enemy. I thought I would die of missing you, first."

Shouyou's eyes instantly blurred and he shoved his nose into Kageyama's hair. "That's—I was just—"

"Oy," Kageyama said, rubbing a soothing hand over Shouyou's back, "you're all snotty. Don't get it in my hair."

"St-stupid Kageyama," Shouyou said, but before he could retaliate further, the sound of doors opening, and a great mass of people moving suddenly and quickly closer, drew his attention. He squeaked. "The service! Kageyama—"

But they were entirely tangled in one another's limbs and clothing, and by the time Kageyama had wiped his hands clean and Shouyou had extricated himself, trying to rearrange his clothes as he was set back on the floor, they had been cornered.

Shouyou thanked the heavens (again) for small mercies; he and Kageyama were at least fully clothed. But judging by Kageyama's appearance, Shouyou knew he must look just as, if not more disheveled. Belatedly, he remembered the marks Kageyama had left on his throat and neck and winced. There really wouldn't be much explanation for those.

"Shouyou," one of the priests said, "there you are! Are you alright, boy? How's your—"

He fell silent, as Kageyama stepped from the shadows, hood still thrown back so his face could clearly be seen. A ripple of shock passed through the crowd as they realized who he was.

"Ge-general!" one of Shouyou's elders said. "It is an honor. We have prayed many long hours to the gods for your safe… return…"

He trailed off, looking quite confusedly between Kageyama and Shouyou. Shouyou let his eyes roam about the room, looking anywhere but at the audience that had gathered, hands innocently behind his back as though he were uninvolved in the situation entirely.

But Kageyama had other ideas.

"You have my sincere thanks," he said, and Shouyou could tell it was heartfelt. Then, to Shouyou's surprise, Kageyama put a warm hand against the back of his neck, before stroking his hair, the gesture plainly fond. "But you owe a great debt to this one, for it is on his behalf that I have returned to this city."

"We owe—to, to Shouyou?" the elder asked, baffled. "I know you have kindly befriended him, but what can he possibly have done—"

"He has my heart," Kageyama said, "so I am at his command. And he asked me to come home."

Shouyou covered his face with his hands, peeking out through his fingers. Kageyama, naturally, looked very serious, and entirely unfazed. Shouyou wasn't sure he realized the full implication of his words (or, indeed, how swift a hit to Shouyou's own heart they had been).

"I will be taking him back to my villa," Kageyama continued. "He shall live there with me from now on, I have given him no say in the matter." Shouyou continued to hide his face, now so that no one could see his broad smile. "I understand the inconvenience to you, elder, but to ease the burden, I propose this—all taxes on the temple are hereby lifted. By allowing him to stay by my side, you have paid me in full."

Now Shouyou lowered his hands to stare at Kageyama, stunned. He whirled to face the priests, wondering how they would take the news—they appeared to be in shock. One of the older priests staggered, and had to be propped up by one of the young acolytes.

"That—that is too generous!" the elder said, and then added, hurriedly, "But we accept! If it would please you—and Shouyou…" He glanced at Shouyou in bewilderment once more.

"It would!" Shouyou cried out.

"Then we should be off," Kageyama said decisively.

"So soon?" asked another of the priests.

Kageyama's mouth twitched. "Yes," he said. "It's a two day journey, after all. And some people can be very, very impatient."

*

"Say, Tobio," Shouyou said contemplatively.

"Hmm?" Kageyama responded.

It was the perfect day out; bright, with clear skies above. So naturally, they had wound up on the exercise field that morning, with the sun hot on their bare skin.

This was after Shouyou had kissed a very grumpy Kageyama awake the morning after one of the villa's big parties. Kageyama, his head ailing him after drinking perhaps more than was wise the night prior, had carried Shouyou bodily to the baths and flung him with an enormous splash into the cold water side for disturbing his sleep. But he joined Shouyou soon after, the frown between his eyes easing after Shouyou realized his indignant shrieks must be worsening Kageyama's headache. He spent the rest of the bath trying to make it up to Kageyama, gently pouring cool water over the top of his head and kissing his temples alternatingly. It seemed to work.

After breakfast, they headed to the field. Training was still an everyday routine for Kageyama, but now he was no longer focused on his martial prowess.

Kageyama had resigned from his position in the army. Though he was still young, and had not yet reached the minimum number of campaigns required for retirement, his contributions to the empire were vast. There was also his agreement to continue on with the training of each new crop of officers. And so, his conditions had been met.

Now he trained to stay in peak physical condition for the next pentathlon. This time, Shouyou would travel with him. Kageyama was already a favorite to win.

This did not mean Shouyou had given up on the idea of beating him in track and field.

"I was thinking…" Shouyou continued, as he hefted his discus, lining up his stance. His form had improved greatly, now that he could practice every day. "What if you're _my_ gift? I mean, you have all the good food and fancy clothes and everything. So what if the gods actually gave you to me?"

He glanced at Kageyama. The other man was frowning mightily.

"You've never done anything impressive enough to deserve a gift from the gods," Kageyama finally replied.

Shouyou scowled. "I put up with you!"

"And my good food, and my fancy clothes," Kageyama pointed out.

"I'm not listening to you," Shouyou said. "I'm concentrating." He made a show of steadying his breathing, preparing himself for his throw.

When he launched the discus, it flew from his fingertips, soaring through the air as he came to rest in his finishing stance to watch it travel. When it landed, Shouyou leaped into the air with a cheer.

"Did you see how far that went? Were you watching?" he yelled.

"It was… impressive," Kageyama said, and Shouyou bounced over to him joyfully.

"It went farther than yours!"

"Yes," Kageyama nodded. "So perhaps it _is_ time you begin practicing with a heavier disc."

Shouyou balked. He was still fairly unable to send the full weight discs any sort of meaningful distance. "I'm working my way up to it!"

Kageyama draped his arms over Shouyou's shoulders and rested his chin in his hair. "Keep telling yourself that."

Shouyou dug an elbow back into his stomach before settling back against his warm chest contentedly. "Say, Tobio."

"More questions?" Kageyama asked lazily.

"Mmhm," Shouyou said. "Do you still think I'm a gift from the gods?"

Kageyama snorted. "Don't be stupid."

Shouyou tilted his head back to look at him, and saw the small smile lifting the corners of the former centurion's mouth.

"I _know_ you are," Kageyama said.

Shouyou beamed up at him, and the blue skies, and the heavens far above them.

For the gods, he knew, had blessed them both.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've been waiting so long  
> To be where I'm going  
> [In the sunshine of your love](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=aT7Y2cSMQ_I)
> 
> \--
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> 
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